The Late Night Café
by SabrinaSelene
Summary: Dazai has never believed in indulging in emotions. Chuuya's still got the chains of the past, shackling him. But when an odd-looking café with questionable opening hours appears down Chuuya's street, and when a fateful mission comes under the ADA, the Double Black pair are forced to meet at the crossroads of destiny and address the deep-seated feelings both have left for too long.
1. The gaudy or trendy café

**Chuuya**

I paused in front of an ugly neon sign hanging on the tinted glass door. It read "OPEN" in loud, gaudy colours. The exterior of the place was decked with a buttercup floral awning; a single, round wooden table in the middle of two chairs resting in its shade.

Not that there was much shade to begin with, since it was 2am in the morning at the moment.

Everything about this place screams "DO NOT ENTER" and I was affronted by its very design.

Nevertheless, my hand was on the door – only because I was curious about the shop that had been under construction for months down my street and its weird sign outside. The white chalk on the black standing chalkboard read "Open 8pm-5am". Did whoever's running this place mix up night and day?

And so, I entered, the small tinkle of a bell welcoming me. I was not surprised to see that my previous doubts haven't been dispelled. What greeted me was a room smaller than it looked from the outside, with tables bathing under an orange light. All of them had a cream tablecloth trimmed with distasteful lacy fringe that sat below napkins and a small, pink printed card. The walls were a sad, faded pink and yellow striped wallpaper and boasts multiple framed paintings of unknown origin and value. Finally, the long wooden counter at the end of the room was sparse with 4 baskets filled with cutlery and a small glass vase containing a single daisy.

Immediately, I felt like exiting. However, before I could turn on my heel and leave, an elderly lady came through a wooden door behind the long counter, peering curiously at me.

"Oh my, do we have a customer here?"

I'm not sure who she was referring to by stating "we". It didn't look like there was anyone else here, working or otherwise, and I most certainly do not see myself as a customer.

But, I refrained from clarifying and distracted myself by passing silent critical judgement on her black and white striped blouse and apron tied around the waist.

"I'm just … passing through," I answered as civilly as possible.

"Did you go to the convenience store, young lad?" She noted the several plastic bags I was holding. "I'm sure you can help yourself to a cup of tea here before you go back home."

I indeed, had just gone to the convenience store and did some grocery shopping – a rare happening these days. It so happens that an efficient new subordinate had just joined the ranks of the Mafia a few days ago. Although she's a newbie, she's already outperforming some of the current staff. I see no reason for another all-nighter when all the due paperwork and reports have been submitted on time. (I say all-nighter but really I mean all-morning-er since most of us sign off work at 5am daily) Frankly, we could use more people like her. Why don't we have more subordinates like her?

In any case, though finding time to shop for my essentials is a rarity, (and thus I usually buy in bulk when I do shop) I'm not about to throw all the normality of my life out of the window now. "It's alright, I'm rather tired so I'll just head home –"

"No!" The lady cried with such force that it stopped me in my tracks as I turned.

"Please, I haven't had a customer in a while. Do indulge me," she laughed lightly, her tone softer. "Do take a seat," she gestured to a table near me, by the window.

My eyes darted from the door to the table and to her. Finally, after a long internal debate, I sighed and sat down awkwardly at the chair. It was wooden and cheap but strangely not uncomfortable. I settled my bags on the floor beside me and picked up the pink card which turned out to be a menu.

I suppose I have time to spare for a small supper … Besides I was feeling particularly good-natured today with the new and capable subordinate under my watch. If this were to happen under normal circumstances, I would have stormed out and probably set fire to the blasted place.

"So, my lad, what will you have?"

"Uhh …" I frowned skeptically at the menu. Most of it comprised of biscuits, cakes, dessert and tea. However, a lot of the flavours were unfamiliar to me. Skimming through it carefully, I finally found something familiar.

"Lady Grey," I answered, and after a pause, I added, "please."

The elderly lady smiled. "How much sugar would you like?"

"Three."

She gave a nod. "Any tidbits to go with?"

"Umm …"

"I highly recommend the chiffon cake," she said cutting in which put me off slightly.

I waved a hand to signal that I was fine with that and she promptly headed through the back door to what I can only assume to be a kitchen.

A moment later, the tea was served to me in a simplistic ceramic cup with a slice of fluffy chiffon cake on the side.

I took off my hat to place on my lap, eyeing the bronze, almost amber-coloured liquid, then lifted the cup to my nose. It smelt light and fruity, not at all a bad aroma. Finally, I placed it to my lips and sipped carefully. The warm liquid with subtle notes of orange and raspberry danced on my taste buds.

I liked it.

I picked up the fork that was provided and took a small bite of the cake. Like the tea, it was light and sweet, the lemon flavor complimenting raspberry.

With much surprise, I had finished my small snack faster and with more enjoyment than expected.

I looked to the lady with a mixture of indignation, disbelief and awe. "What is this place?"

"Why," she answered with a chuckle. "It's the Late Night Café!"

Disgruntled, I put down a few dollar bills on the table and put on my hat. "I … you should have – there wasn't a sign outside!"

"Indicating that this was a café?" The old lady looked at me as if I were the surprise here. "Wasn't it quite obvious?"

 _No, it wasn't! The entire premise just looks shady!_ Feeling betrayed by the whole design of the place (Such a shitty décor shouldn't come with good food!), I decided not to answer.

I stood up angrily, almost knocking the chair over, picked up my groceries and went to the door without another word.

"I take it that you enjoyed yourself?" The lady called, stopping me momentarily. "Well, come back anytime if you feel like a late night snack!"

Unable to restrain myself any longer, I yelled in annoyance, "I'll come back when this place is properly decorated! What an insult!"

Still fuming, I exited and strode back home. My earlier good-naturedness had all but dissipated.

The next morning, I didn't feel sorry when I commanded my available subordinates to spar with me without their weapons.

* * *

 **Dazai**

I highly considered skipping out on today's case or ditching it onto someone else. Unfortunately, Ranpo and Yosano-sensei are handling 2 cases already and Atsushi-kun, Kyouka-chan and Kenji-kun are investigating a robbery right now. I had already begged Tanizaki-kun to take this case on too but he and Naomi had a date … and well, Naomi-san gets so scary when I attempt to take Tanizaki out of her sight for just even a second. Geez …

Of course, there's Kunikida-kun as well but he's not too happy right now. He's too busy finishing my late paperwork.

I guess it really all comes down to me to get the job done. Godammit … why am I always doing most of the work?

Kunikida must have specially set this one up for me to punish me. The bastard. I never thought I'd ever come this close to _this_ place again.

Already turning round the corner to this street was making my head ache.

But the past was the past, and as irritating as it might have been, it shouldn't interfere with the present. _My_ present.

I checked the location of the place against a map I had downloaded on my phone and walked towards it. After 10 minutes, I had finally found the place. Or at least, what I had assumed to be the place …

The tinted glass door had a sign that read "CLOSED" in bright, vibrant colours. The exterior of the place was decked with a buttercup floral awning; a single, round wooden table in the middle of two chairs resting in its shade …

For which I was thankful for. I hurriedly sat in one of those chairs, fanning myself. The heat of the afternoon was killing me. Though, unfortunately, not literally.

I was pleasantly surprised. I had thought this would be a dingy old café but from what its exterior suggests, it looked more like a quaint, cool haunt. The tinted glass added so much mystery to the place while the "CLOSED" sign piqued curiosity about what the café had to offer! It was just beckoning me to enter!

Sadly, it seemed like I was too early. I had also noticed the words "Open 8pm-5am" written in white chalk on a black chalkboard outside the door. It was currently 4pm so I had a few hours to spare.

I opened a document on my phone and consulted its contents carefully. According to them, the lady running this place also lived here. Her husband had died many years ago and left her with her estranged daughter. Mentally, I ran over whatever information I needed to acquire from her …

Then, I sighed heavily. This was such boring and tedious work. To be honest, this case shouldn't even be handled by the Armed Detective Agency. But who had expected the police in our neighbouring city – Kawasaki, to be so useless that they'd ask us for help? And oh, how cruel were they to approach President personally, knowing he would be unable to refuse such a pitiful request!

In the heat and frustration of it all, I had effectively fallen asleep until I felt something ruffle my hair and poke at me.

"Ow – Ouch!" I cried out as I stirred awake, slapping away whatever that was stabbing my cheek.

As I sat up, I noticed an elderly lady standing in front of me. She was wearing a floral blouse and white apron. I thought she matched the awning overhead us.

Looking around, I realised that I had been sleeping for a few hours since it appeared to be rather dark.

"Are you lost, young lad?" The lady spoke in a kindly voice.

I certainly wish I was. "Pfft! Regrettably, I know this place too well."

She looked at me with interest. "Oh? Then you must know this café is new. Why don't you come in since you're here? We're open now."

I followed her into the café, failing to see however, why she addressed herself as "we". There didn't seem to be any other staff. The stark vacantness of this place was astonishing. Although the interior was filled with tables and chairs in a warm lighting, the sheer emptiness of it made it look a lot colder and spacious in a hollow sort of way.

"I'm sorry," she apologised as she headed to the counter. "I don't get many customers so it's a little dusty …"

I scratched my chin. Perhaps more neon signs placed outside the café would attract people?

"But that table there has been recently cleaned," the lady pointed to one by the window. "You can sit there if you like."

Obligingly, I sat and picked up what seemed to be a pink card. It turned out to be a menu.

"How did you find me?" I asked out of curiosity as I scanned the food items listed.

"I came out at 8 to change the sign outside. You were a little early if you had planned on visiting this place," she smiled in reply.

"Ah! Oh well. This is a late night café after all!"

"Oh! Exactly!" The old lady beamed, clasping her hands. "That's actually what it's called!"

I turn my eyes back to the menu. Nothing really interests me …

"Would you happen to have coffee?" I spoke at last.

The old lady looked confused. "Coffee? Well … I do, but … I can't exactly roast any beans for you."

"That won't matter," I said lightly. And it didn't.

"Then, how would you like it?"

"Long and black, thank you."

I watched as the old lady gave a nod and went into a back door behind the sparse, wooden counter before turning my attention to other things. My eyes scanned the vicinity. There were barely any personal belongings besides a few interesting paintings and a mechanical, old-fashioned clock on the wall behind the counter. It read 8.20.

I should wrap this up soon so that I can go home earlier.

A moment later, the lady came out with a simplistic, porcelain cup of steaming coffee and set it at my table.

"Hungry?"

"Not really," I replied, taking a sip.

All at once, I was utterly blown away by how amazing it was. "Lady," I started, already finishing half my cup and burning my tongue, "how did you make this?"

"Oh you know. Powder, hot water … dark chocolate."

Not a bad combination at all. I nodded in approval. "It's brilliant!"

"Why, thank you," she chuckled. "It's always been my dream to open a successful café! And what's a successful café without good food?"

I sighed wistfully now. "And it's always been my dream to commit a double suicide with a beautiful lady! But sadly, I cannot find one that is willing …"

"Will I qualify?"

I looked up in shock, staring at the elderly woman. That's right! I hadn't mentioned age at all! So she _did in fact,_ qualify! "Oh, oh my … are you possibly offering – I mean …"

She, however, started to laugh at my spluttering. "I'm just pulling your leg. I still want to live my dream before I go."

"At this age?" I blurted out without thinking.

"It's never too old to live your dream! It gives you something to look forward to in life!" The old lady lectured wisely, waving a finger at me. Then, with a kinder smile, she looked me in the eye. "Perhaps you just haven't found something to look forward to yet."

There was something unsettling about both her gaze and her words. I tore my own eyes away to look at the remaining swirling dark liquid in my cup.

"Perhaps," I answered involuntarily, quietly.

I knew that already. How could I not? I've been trying to search for a reason to live for as long as I could remember. In fact, that's fundamentally why I am here right now.

I glanced at the clock. It was 8.45.

"I'm sure this place will become successful in no time!" I said brightly, changing the topic. "You have such great coffee … and food, I'm sure, too! I'm envious of your family."

A faraway look now crossed the old lady's face. "I … I used to make coffee like this for my husband. He liked it black too, just like you."

I rested my elbows on the table and propped up my face with a hand. "You used to make coffee for your husband?"

"He died," she hesitated. "He was a cop … shot by the Port Mafia."

Suddenly, a bell tinkled and a couple walked in, linked by the arm. They stared around at the place curiously. The old lady straightened up in surprise, snapping out of her thoughts.

"Well, my condolences." I attempted to sound as sincere as I possibly could. Walking up to her, I dropped a few bills in her hand. "Thank you for the coffee."

Then, I swiftly made my way out. It seemed like my time was up.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know things may very random with all the original characters, but don't worry, the Soukoku won't get lost in the story of the fic! The second chapter will move faster, I promise!


	2. Irritation

**Chuuya**

A prickle of annoyance set off in me as I stopped in front of the offensive café again. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the whole premise had just become even more irritating since the last time I had set foot in here.

I checked the time – it was exactly 12 midnight.

"Tch!" I said to no one in particular. Tonight, I had been sent home way too early on Ane-san's insistence. Dammit! Nothing gets past her.

Anyway, I hesitated in front of the door. What would that mean if I entered? Would I be considered a "regular"? A shiver went down my spine. I would never want to be considered such a term here!

However, my body and its cravings finally betrayed me to my utter dismay, leading me to enter the café once again.

To my great surprise, there were a few customers seated at the tables enjoying their cups of tea and desserts. What on earth … Since when did this place become popular?

Well okay, 2 individuals do not make a place popular but here I was, the third customer to serve. And 3 people make a crowd.

And this was exactly when I decided it's best for me to go home and make some tea myself … or just down some liquor. It was weird enough already that I'm craving tea over alcohol.

"Oh my! You came back!" A familiar voice stopped me just as I was going to the door. I cringed internally.

Turning around, I saw that she was carrying a plate of cake.

"I had wondered who that bell tinkled for!" The lady walked forward from the counter. "And it turned out to be that stylish young man from two nights ago, after all!"

Oh, that was nice of her mention! "Why, I – " but then, I stopped, remembering myself and my mission to leave, "- wait! I know what you are doing! Flattery won't get me to stay!"

"Will good food?" She held up the plate enticingly, before placing it down at one of the customers' table.

My stomach, _the traitor_ , rumbled in reply.

Dammit!

Soon, I was seated at the table by the window again, with a cup of tea and slice of cake. This time, it was Darjeeling, paired with cheesecake. It was sadly, all very delicious and I had no complaints to make about the food.

"You look exhausted," the old lady said as she came to take away my cup and plate when I was done. "Busy day at work?"

I thought about the raid I had done earlier and the two stolen paintings I had sold. Granted, I had almost ruined both missions, causing Ane-san to send me home but still …

"Well yes," I answered. "There was a lot of paperwork in particular. But our company has hired someone with real organisational skills of late!"

This was indeed true. The new subordinate has been proving herself to be a worthy asset to the Port Mafia. Not only does she have outstanding clerical skills, she is also perfectly capable of handling herself in combat, even though she possesses no ability.

I have no doubt, her success and fast-growing popularity were due to my superior tutelage and watch.

"How nice," the old lady replied with much less enthusiasm than I'd hoped for. She clearly didn't understand how much easier our lives have been made with a talented staff member.

"Hey, lady," I started, perhaps a little too rudely. "Do you manage this whole place yourself? Why don't you hire staff?"

"I don't need to," she laughed, going back to the back door with my cutlery.

Well, I guess not. Although she did have a few more customers today, the café could hardly be described as "busy". It seemed like people visit this place more sporadically than regularly. And I definitely, fit the former description.

Then elderly woman came through the door again, with cloth in hand.

"You know, you'd probably get a lot more customers if you opened in the daytime." I tried to sound as casual as possible. I have no intention of helping her or her business. I just noticed a very large flaw in her management of the place, that's all.

The old lady looked thoughtful. "I suppose. But I opened this café with the intention to serve at nighttime."

The answer sounded so ridiculous that I was unable to stop myself from asking, "why?"

"Well, isn't a good idea? Don't we all get those late-night cravings that cannot be satisfied because all shops are closed?" She came over to my table to wipe away the crumbs. "My daughter especially, experienced such cravings almost every night. And guess who had to cook up food for her?" She continued with a laugh.

Although her tone was light, something bothered me about that statement.

"Experienced? Why in past tense? Did she stop having cravings, or …?"

The elderly lady stared at me. It was clear she didn't expect me to pick up on that. Or if she did, then she certainly did not expect me to ask about it. I don't blame her. I was astonished myself. Why would I ever take concern in an old lady's private life? Awkwardly, I fiddled with my hat before placing it firmly on my head.

"I'm … sorry," I mumbled gruffly. "I'm going to take my leave now."

The old lady spoke quickly. "There's no need to be, lad. I'm not offended in the least …"

I had already stood up, and pushed in my chair. I'm not quite sure how to respond. "Well … okay. I guess …"

"But if you must know," she continued.

 _I don't._

"She moved away to another city a long time ago."

 _I didn't need or want to know!_ But I bit my tongue and held myself back. I absolutely loathe awkward situations like this … After all, it's weird for a Mafia Executive like me to even be conversing with an old lady like her in the first place.

"I'm sorry," I apologised for the second time today – tomorrow? It was already almost 1. The words felt queer on my lips. "I really should get going."

Then, I left the café quickly. I feel slightly troubled. I need a hot shower and sleep desperately.

Just then, my cellphone rang. Jumping a little, I picked it up as I started to walk. It was Ane-san.

"Ane-san," I greeted.

"Chuuya, I hope you are home," was the calm reply.

I hesitated before speaking. "Oh, well, umm … I'm still on the way. I stopped by a place to eat -"

"At this time?"

I nodded, then realised I was on a call with her. "Uhh, yes."

I hear a sigh over the line. "Chuuya, my instructions to you were to go home immediately and sleep. Do you know how much danger you put yourself in today?"

I flashback grimly to my getting lost while on the way to the meet-up point to exchange the stolen paintings … as well as my spacing out in the middle of the raid. The latter almost resulted in me being shot down if it weren't for the mafia members behind me taking aim first.

"Mmm …" I agreed with Ane-san solemnly. "I'm sorry, I just -"

Another sigh. "Chuuya, are you stressed about something?"

I paused for a long time. "… No."

"According to the lower-ranks with you, the enemy mentioned Da -"

"Don't!" I said quickly, angrily. "I'm fine, Ane-san. I really am!"

"Nothing bothering you at all?"

"Nothing!"

I realised I had been increasing my pace so rapidly that I was already at the front door of my apartment. I took a few deep breaths. "Ane-san, I think I'm just tired. I've already reached my apartment … am going to go in."

"Alright, Chuuya. Get some sleep, soon … You know, I just worry for you."

I fumbled with my door keys. "Yeah – Uhh … I mean. Yes, I know. I'm sorry … I do appreciate your concern though."

"If there's anything on your mind -"

"I'll tell you," I said hurriedly, pushing the door open with more force than necessary. "Goodnight, Ane-san."

"Goodnight, Chuuya."

* * *

 **Dazai**

Well, at the very least, it could have been a lot worse …

Kunikida-kun usually starts domestically abusing me if I mess up or in this case, don't do my job properly. Today however, he was in a better mood as he had predicted that I wouldn't have been able to collect all the information needed yesterday … So at least to him, everything was still according to schedule.

Still, of course, he gave me quite the earful and made me lose the game I was playing on my phone (which was so uncool … I was about to beat my highscore!) but like I said, it could have gone a lot worse; I suppose I should be grateful.

Though, getting a little side-tracked yesterday wasn't completely my fault … if Kunikida-kun had been there, things would get done a lot sooner. (He had refused to tag along with me today too, as he says he would end up having to do everything … which I feel is not true at all) He was supposed to be my partner after all. How could I function as efficiently without my other half?

But I jest. Other half? More like my mother. Can such a relationship even be considered a "partnership"? Isn't a partnership a working relationship between two mutuals, and not something more akin to a scary mother and her (his?) children?

I stopped in front of the café, contemplating. Partnership, huh? Strangely, even though I refer to Kunikida-kun as my partner, I don't think I've really ever considered him as one. Probably, the only person I've ever really thought of as a partner was …

"Oh!" A voice broke my chain of thought. The old lady was standing outside the door, staring at me. "Did you just arrive?"

"I did."

She turned over the sign on the door so that it now read "OPEN". "Well, the café's open now, so come on in!"

Heading into the café, I realised I was the first customer. Out of courtesy, I asked, "How's business going?"

"Pretty well," she said, ushering me to the same table beside the window. "A few more customers have come in."

I fingered with the menu as I stared outside the window. "Hmm … you might attract more people if you put up more lights out in front."

"You think?"

"Oh definitely!"

There was a silence that then fell between us as she waited for my order. I put down the unopened menu and turned my head to look back at her.

"One cup of coffee, please. Long and black."

"Of course," the elderly lady nodded and went through the back door.

As she prepared the coffee, I gathered my thoughts. I must have this done by today. Unfortunately, she didn't give me very long to think. 5 minutes later, she was out with my coffee.

"That was fast," I remarked, stirring the black liquid.

She looked happy. "I've made this coffee a thousand times before."

Perfect opening! "For your late husband, right?"

"Oh my, that's right. I've told you," the elderly woman replied.

I took a long sip, savouring the flavour. It was hard to imagine this came from mere powder. "What about your –"

"Oh, I noticed you were standing outside the shop for a while as I was going out … might you be thinking about something?"

I was still a little thrown aback by the interruption. "Umm …"

"Could it be that you've finally found your beautiful lady?"

I threw my head back in laughter. "Oh, I wish! I spent the entirety of today searching and searching … all the while also researching painless ways the two of us could bid this world goodbye!"

The old lady smiled. "I hope then, you one day find someone suitable. But of course, a partner that will convince you to continue living instead."

I sat down the cup I had in my hand, almost abruptly. There. There was that word again. It was significant because I was just thinking about it. She couldn't have known. I lifted my eyes to meet hers.

She didn't.

"Is there something wrong?" The elderly woman inquired, noticing my stare.

"Ah … ah ah, no there isn't!" I stuttered, waving my hand at her. "It's just … well." I frowned, the annoyance at myself was building inside of me.

The old lady looked concerned. "Are you worried you'll never find someone? If that's the case, don't be! I was there before!"

"That's not the case …"

"You'll have to just keep looking! Prospective partners are always found where you least expect them to show up! Who knows, you might have already met your ideal partner!" She said firmly.

"I have found my partner!"

The old lady peered at me even more curiously. "Oh, is that so?"

"Ah, but it's not what you think … we're colleagues." I had no idea why I was speaking my mind about this topic to her.

"I see."

"But," I sigh. "I feel like we aren't exactly partners … if you know what I mean? We're certainly … what's the word? Compatible, ability wise? In a funny sort of way … but it's not the same, it's nothing like – like …"

Here, I frowned even harder. What was I trying to say? My mind was jumping to odd places now. I tried very hard to focus on my coffee in the cup. The black liquid reflected my confused face back at me.

"Have you lost someone?"

"What?" I looked at her in shock. "I have no family … I'm not tracking anyone at the moment …"

The last statement was a lie.

The elderly lady laughed. "The way you spoke reminded of me when I had just lost my husband, my partner and tried to find someone else initially, to ease the pain."

I blinked at her, not understanding. I was talking about Kunikida-kun and I, wasn't I?

"You just sounded like you're speaking about someone you once knew. A little thoughtful, a little wistful … a little sad."

She's crazy. Why would I be sad? Over whom, too?

"Perhaps you're a little scared to think about that person, just like I was when I had lost my husband … I felt he was the only person that accepted me the way I was. All my flaws …"

A flashback of a memory began in my mind. A voice was calling out my name.

" _Are you trying to kill yourself again? Sheesh! Get up, you loser. As much as I'd like you to die too, we've still got finish this mission!"_

"All my positives …"

" _Don't laugh! I t's creepy the way you always figure things out! Ugh … but, I'm glad you do, I guess."_

"Maybe you regret not being able to trust your partner more, or open up to them. Perhaps you -"

This time, I cut the old lady off in her little monologue. I walked up to her and firmly placed a hand on her shoulder, staring straight into her eyes.

"Thank you for the coffee," I dropped the money in her hands once more and left the vicinity.

I could feel her shaking slightly from the pressure of my hand and my stare. And that felt more satisfying than anything I've done in weeks.

* * *

 **A/N:** Writing in their POVs was very nerve-wracking. But I like to think I am getting more comfortable with it, lol (Probs not). Also yay - first flashback! Many more to come!


	3. Bad Dream

**Chuuya**

I detest feeling this way but Ane-san was right. Something _was_ bothering me. The worst part of it all was that, I know she knows, and also knows I don't want to admit it.

But I only refuseto admit anything because I've changed now. Something like _that_ shouldn't be bothering me. It should be a mild irritation at most. But regrettably, it had slipped into the recesses of my mind, made its home at the back of my head, and is consuming all my thoughts when I'm least alert.

I feel like Mori knows too, and is deliberately mocking me by sending me on so many life-threatening missions. I bet he's having a laugh. The bastard.

3 people? Really? I had to slog through mud and rain today, collecting all sorts of payments to assassinate 3 people. Why the heck is the Mafia Head accepting so many assassination jobs these days?

Then again, maybe I'm just paranoid. Maybe he doesn't know and is just innocently sending me to carry out important missions due to my talents.

I almost snorted with laughter. Who am I kidding? Since when is Mori-san _innocent._

However, I can't figure out his recent obsession with this new, up-start weapons-manufacturing company. Apparently he is interested in their technology and has been investing in their research and development. As such, the rest of the Port Mafia now has to work twice as hard to pay for that research and development. Thus, probably why all the raids and assassination jobs. It's the quickest and easiest way to make money after all … and mock me at the same time.

I glanced at my sodden shoes and cloak, sighing heavily. It's already past 4 in the morning but I still have to do the laundry before I can hit the pillow.

I continued walking down the street, innocent and unsuspecting. Then, a flare of light attacked me as I turned the corner.

I frowned at what seemed to be a strip club with their blinding, pulsating lights from the distance.

Since when did _that_ open up here?

Confused, I approached the place, shielding my eyes. To my utmost horror, I realised that the strip club was just the stupid Late Night Café with ridiculously powerful LED fairy lights strung out in front.

And most insultingly, there was _still_ no sign whatsoever to indicate that this was actually a café!

I burst through the door impulsively, almost breaking the door and bell both, causing several stares from the patrons inside. (Why are people still coming here?!)

The owner of the café – the elderly lady, had just finished serving a slice of cake to a customer. She looked back in astonishment. Then, recognising it was me, her face relaxed.

"Oh! Our perpetually angry customer! I haven't seen you in a while!"

"Perpetually angry?!" I spluttered, then realised I was proving her right by doing so. "What – what in heavens name …" I attempted to correct my tone.

She waved me over to the same seat by the window. How come nobody else seems to sit there? "Please have a seat."

"Lady," I hissed, intentionally not taking the seat and following her to the counter instead. "Why are there flashing lights outside this place now?"

The old lady beamed. "You noticed!"

"Of course I noticed!" I said with exasperation. "I noticed it miles away!" This was an exaggeration but that's what it felt like.

"That means it's working!" She laughed. "I've experienced a small increase in customers since that man gave me this suggestion."

I stared at her, not understanding. My jaw dropped unflatteringly but I didn't care. "Hah?"

"A regular customer gave me the suggestion to put more lights outside to attract people!"

"You have regulars?" This information was even more astounding.

To add to the insult, she looked at me pointedly with amusement. "Yes."

I felt defeated. My mouth was open and probably gaping like a goldfish but I couldn't say a word. This place was attracting customers alright, but in the way one would be curious about a new, sleazy nightclub … only to find that it was in fact, a dingy café run by an old lady.

"Tea?" The elderly woman tilted her head to the side, smiling serenely.

I slinked back to the seat she had directed me to and sat down. Whatever, I could use something calming anyway. Of course, I don't actually _like_ coming here. God, no. I just … haven't visited in a few days and I might as well get something to drink while I'm here.

I put my hat down and bit on my lip, frowning at the menu. The lights outside were distracting me. Finally, I threw my head back in frustration.

"Whoever suggested those dastardly lights have zero taste and zero class!"

Everyone in the room glanced at me nervously and I shot them all a glare, daring them to say something.

Then, the old lady put a cup of steaming tea on my table.

"What is this?" I glared at her too. I haven't ordered a thing.

Despite my glare, she still smiled. "It's chamomile. You look like you could use some."

I glowered at the cup for a moment, then finally took a sip. It was good chamomile, with a hint of mango too.

Grudgingly, I had to give it to this woman. The stuff sold here _is_ good.

"Long day?" She said, passing by my table after making a round to clean the others with a cloth.

I hesitated, and then nodded.

"More paperwork?"

I vaguely remember telling her about my job, skimming over the finer details of course. "Yeah. But it could have been a lot worse."

"Ah, right. Your new … colleague?"

Did I tell her about my subordinate? "Yes …" I replied, unsure of what to say. "She's technically under my management and … umm, she's really efficient and smart."

My mind flashed back to the events of today. The girl had single-handedly operated the running of the 3 assassinations today. Acting as a stakeout, she calmly communicated the targets' location, action and time with amazing precision. She even went as far as to point out red flags or potential obstacles, directing me and my actions.

This was amazing because that was one of the rare few times my nagging thoughts hadn't bothered me. All 3 assassinations had been carried out to perfection.

Come to think of it, we worked really well together even though she had just joined us a week ago. Our moments of cohesion were a strange feeling to me. Was it because it was so rare to find someone you naturally work well with? Or maybe I just really missed working as a pair.

I stopped myself quickly. Wait, what? I felt my heartbeat accelerate. Shit. Not right now.

"Uhh …" I noticed the strange look the lady was giving me. "Yeah, today … today was tiring but great - cause, like, she was a very huge support to the team and all."

The elderly woman's confusion was replaced by amusement again. "I see. And do we have a name to attach to her talents?"

I was slightly taken aback, but was grateful for the distraction to my disturbing thoughts. "O – Okamoto-kun?" I wasn't going to disclose her full name. This was an odd question to ask anyway.

"Looks like you both get along well."

"We do?" I inquired without thinking. I quickly took another sip of tea, almost burning myself.

I can't deny that I've been in a rather weird state of mind lately. Something about what the lady said suddenly stirred up a great ache in my heart. I feel like I'm missing something. Recently, I've been feeling like that since … that night, since both nights … when I used Corruption, and fought against that monster and that fog with …

I bit my lip, hard. The physical pain temporarily froze the conjured memories. My racing thoughts took over. I can't be, I can't be possibly … missing some kind of partnership, am I? I swore I would never depend so heavily on another since, since …

Anger prickled at the back of my eyes and I balled my hands into trembling fists at the table. I will never forgive or forget what _he's_ done. As much as I hate to admit it, I was a complete mess after his traitorous actions.

I hurriedly gulped the remaining tea, this time, I _did_ manage to burn myself but my throbbing head hardly registered the pain.

Whatever the case, whatever that is bothering me, I need it to go. I won't let it affect me or my life anymore. A torturous month of spacing out since that last reunion had been more than enough. Now, I feel like I can move on and start anew. Maybe Okamoto-kun and I will become the newest pair to fear in all of Yokohama.

I started to snicker at myself. Newest pair? Who am I kidding? I'm never relying on anyone ever again.

* * *

 **Dazai**

"This is getting ridiculous, Dazai! How long does it take for someone to acquire this little information?!"

I nursed my wounds from Kunikida's thrashing and winced. "There were many complications!"

"Such as?" The angry blond towered over me, having just destroyed half the contents on his desk by hurling them at me.

I rubbed my head, struggling to get to my feet. "Well, for one, the lady at the café is sca – ry."

"Is she now?" He looked unconvinced.

I feigned some distress. "Oh yes! She makes me so ill at ease with her heavy words, I can never get anything out of her!"

Kunikida remained unsympathetic. "Or maybe that's an excuse you just spun to hide your incompetency."

"How mean, Kunikida-kun!"

He chucked a paperweight at me and I dodged, narrowly missing it. It hit the wall behind me and fell with a soft thud to the ground. Looking back, there was a dent in the wall.

"That almost killed –"

"Three days! THREE DAYS DAZAI! Yes I expected you to fail the first day, and even the second but the third? You just decided not to go, giving me some lame excuse about being sick and stayed home –"

I sighed, my head lolling to one side. Another lecture … But a sideway glance to my left saw Ranpo and Yosano at their desks, shooting me dirty looks. The kids, Tanizaki, Naomi and Kenji-kun were similarly looking slightly annoyed.

"Okay, stop!" I held up my hands in surrender finally, my ears having been bled out. "Look, if it bothers you so much, I'll personally take on this mission myself."

Kunikida-kun seemed a little taken aback. "Really? The entire case? Not just the acquisition of information?"

I rolled my eyes. "Ye – esss. The whole damn package. Now will you quit yelling?"

Wordlessly, Kunikida pushed up his spectacles and turned to sit back at his desk. He started typing on his laptop. "Just find this person by the end of the month."

"Assuming she isn't dead."

"It doesn't matter what happened to her. Just locate where she is and what state she's in."

I crossed my arms and went over to sit on Kunikida-kun's desk which was significantly more empty now than it had been before. I feel unusually annoyed about this whole case. It was odd enough for the police of another state to push this to us – a missing woman with barely any family connections. Besides, they have already declared her dead, so why bother continuing investigations?

But I guess, after reasoning it out, I _do_ know why. This girl was suspected of being involved with a criminal organisation in Kawasaki. The police had found some evidence of her being in some form of contact with them in her apartment. With her mother in Yokohama, and the organisation also being known for their ability users in the past, the Kawasaki police had decided it was best to hand the case over to the government's pride and joy – The Armed Detective Agency. After all, being associated with a criminal organisation immediately makes you a person of interest. The government cannot simply write off someone like that as "dead" and leave it as it is.

I say "past" when referring to said organisation because they had supposedly been snuffed out by our very own Port Mafia after running into conflict with them. I chided them silently. Their fault for trying to extend their puny influence into Yokohama.

"Oi, Dazai," Kunikida's voice suddenly broke my chain of thought. "I just received an email. You may want to take a look at this."

I read the email sent to the ADA by the Chief of the Kawasaki police. Apparently, they had continued investigating that criminal organisation to aid us in our case. I gave a snort of laughter, earning me a disapproving look from Kunikida-kun. The Kawasaki police were probably trying to wash their hands off their guilt and shame for giving up this case.

I continued reading, initially only mildly interested in what the email was addressing. However, my interest was piqued when the Chief later outlined a recent discovery and escape of a government official that was also a spy for an unknown organisation. He had gotten away by using his ability, killing the police officers after him. Since then, he had gone underground. Upon further investigations of his files and belongings, they had found that this spy had been involved with them since their conception, about 5 years ago.

After reading this, I felt a smile curl at the side of my lips.

"Don't jump to conclusions, Dazai. We still don't know the name of this organisation."

I hopped down from the table and approached the door. "Even so –"

"Even so be cautious! Don't act rashly, Dazai. And don't smear the name of the Armed Detective Agency!"

"Yes, _Mum_ ," I sang, opening the door. I could hear snickers from the rest of the Agency members behind me, as well as Kunikida-kun's angry protesting.

Then, Atsushi and Kyouka who had arrived back from a mission came to the opened door, looking very drenched (it was pouring outside) and confused.

"What's going on? Where are you going?" The white-haired boy asked, draping a towel over Kyouka.

I grinned widely. "I'm going to take a little field trip!"

* * *

 **Chuuya**

Sometimes I think I should keep a journal. Maybe writing down how I feel … confessing my thoughts on paper, it'll help me feel better.

Or it could make them worse.

Today, I just had one. It wasn't a particularly bad one, definitely not the worse, but it was from such a long time ago, I found it rather surprising.

Four years ago, to be precise.

I wiped the perspiration off my brow and sat up, pulling my knees together. I like to think about my dreams … well, nightmares for a while before attempting sleep again. It's how I calm myself and re-organise my thoughts.

I established a steady rhythm of breath as I went through the events that had been playing out in my head seconds ago. It was a mission I had gone on with that … that shitty ex-partner of mine. Its aim: revenge.

Boss had instructed us to acquire the money a certain politician had taken from us after suing the Port Mafia in court. He told us to use "any means" possible.

My dream itself was only focused on the memory of standing in the library of the politician's mansion with my partner. It was 9pm and according to the information gathered, the man of the hour shouldn't be at home 'till 10.

We kidnapped his wife who had been reading there, issued a ransom note and was about to leave when their housemaid unknowingly strode into the library with a duster. She looked barely 15-years of age.

I dropped the unconscious wife I had been carrying and immediately moved to pin the girl down before she could run.

I heard my partner's footsteps, heavy on the carpet as he approached me, carrying the politician's wife.

"Kill her," he instructed.

"Why?" I had replied. "Let's take her too."

"And do what? No one cares for this girl. She's an orphan who has been hired to do chores in a wealthy house. There's no name or value to her."

Still, I hesitated, looking at the girl lying face down on the ground under my weight. She was trembling slightly, just like the blade on her neck.

"Kill her," came the instruction again. Cold and void of emotion.

Closing my eyes, I waited a second to apologise silently. Then, I calmly slit her throat and stood up to clean my blade.

"Oh thank god," my partner sighed, pushing the wife towards me. "That took forever! I thought my arms were going to give out!"

Just then, I felt something grabbing my leg. I whirled around, letting out a gasp as the corpse of the girl clasped another hand around my leg, pulling herself up shakily. Her neck was a deep scarlet, staining the floor and her clothes.

"You think an apology will justify your actions?" The girl started laughing, her whole body shaking.

"Chuuya, what -"

I never got to hear the end of my partner's sentence as her left arm stretched itself a good few metres forward to pierce through his chest. I ran to him though there wasn't much I could do.

"Da – ah!" I her right arm also extended forward, hands now gripping my neck. The girl lifted me from the floor. I started to choke.

"You're next."

The last thing I heard was her maniacal laughter before my eyes flew open and I found myself lying spread eagled in bed.

 _I need a drink_ , I thought to myself, pulling apart from my knees and heading to the kitchen for some alcohol to knock me out. It was only 1pm. I still had a few hours of daytime left before I had to report to work later anyway.

* * *

 **A/N:** I hope that everyone's enjoying the fic so far? I understand the slow burn/build is not for everyone, but I really hope you can understand it! Oh, by the way, this fic can be found on A03 as well! Do hit me up on there if you like! And please pray for Chuuya baby :(


	4. First stirrings

**Dazai**

I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do. I don't really have a plan laid out, but I do have a gist of what's going to happen.

First of all, I'm going to need Tanizaki-kun. Check. I've just called the boy and he's willing to come over as soon as his work was done. He didn't sound too happy, but hey, at least he's getting a free drink from me right?

Though … I don't really have the expenses now to pay for his train ticket.

Well that aside, the second thing I need to do would be to finish my delicious dinner and head off to meet him. So I thanked the chef for his hearty bowl of ramen and left.

It was around 9pm when I met the awkwardly lanky teenager at the station. I waved at him enthusiastically as he made his way through the crowd to me.

"Tanizaki-kun!" I threw him a drink I had grabbed from a vending machine on the way here. The boy, caught off-guard, fumbled to catch the can. He clutched it to his chest and hurried closer.

"Dazai-san!"

"Careful," I said, waving a finger at him. "That's a premium strawberry coffee drink sold only by the best ramen places here in Kawasaki."

Tanizaki-kun peered at the small can in his hand. "Oh – oh it must have been expensive!"

"It was," I agreed as I started walking to the exit, Tanizaki tailing behind me.

"Thank you, Dazai-san."

The both of us made it out to the busy streets. Tanizaki was curiously looking around. "Umm … so why are we here again?"

Kawasaki's nightlife had just begun. The city was a dazzling array of lights and tall buildings, just like Yokohama. As it was also a port city, there were many structural similarities and it wasn't very hard to navigate around. What was different, however, were the people, or rather, the types of people here. That was what I was interested in.

"I need you to help me find the existence of a certain organisation," I said lightly as we crossed the road.

Tanizaki frowned. "Sorry?"

"Blood Raid," I explained. "That's the name of the largest and most influential criminal organisation here. That is, until they were crushed by the Port Mafia."

"The Port Mafia?"

"That's what happens when you try to expand your clout into our territory. Lesson to be learned: Know your place."

Soon, the both of us found ourselves away from the city lights and curious eyes. Turning down narrow streets and dark alleyways, we were approaching the underbelly of Kawasaki.

Tanizaki inched himself closer to me. "So then, what are we doing here again?"

"We want to find out if they still exist, simple as that."

"Blood Raid?" His voice had dropped to a hushed whisper. "Why are we doing this – and how?"

I chuckled, startling the poor boy a little. "It's part of the mission Kunikida-kun pushed to me and to answer your second question … let's just say that I'm somewhat of a celebrity in these parts."

Tanizaki's eyes filled with dread. I could almost see him debating internally whether to ask any more questions on the matter. Well, he might get an idea if he pays attention to what's happening next. I stopped abruptly at the back of a building that had a metal ladder leading to the roof. Coaxingly, I urged the youngster to climb to the top as I followed after him.

Tonight was rather windy and chilly, but other than that, its darkness made it perfect. There was no moon tonight.

"Now, Tanizaki-kun," I started, beckoning him to the edge of the building and crouching down. "I need you to create a hologram of me."

The other boy crouched down beside me. "Where?"

"There," I pointed below at an alleyway. "We should be able to see from up here. So I need you to just make fake-me start walking."

"Our destination?"

"No where in particular. Just as long as 'I'm' moving."

Tanizaki-kun still looked unsure but nodded anyway as I gave him my best hundred-watt smile. "O – okay."

Tanizaki activated his ability and a few seconds of freshly falling snow later, a wispy figure below us materialised into focus to become … well, me.

Fake-me started to walk forwards and Tanizaki and I followed. As fake-me travelled through dark alleyways and twisting street corners, the two of us followed from the building tops. As Tanizaki was silent for the most part, I started to hum a little tune to keep us from dying from boredom.

Though, I didn't get to finish humming the chorus as fake-me stopped walking abruptly; a man in front of "me" was holding "me" at gunpoint.

Tanizaki gasped softly and crouched down, concentrating hard on "my" shocked expression.

"Don't move," the man said gruffly from below. From the top of a building amidst howling winds, I could barely hear him. Though, I could read his lips and at the moment, they don't look very happy.

Fake-me stayed still, "my" shocked expression had settled into a mask. I gave Tanizaki-kun a thumbs-up.

"You've got some guts to come strolling into here alone," the man continued, edging closer. "You doing this like some walk in the park, huh?"

"Araki, what've you got there?" Another voice, deep and rumbling. Another man had come into view from behind the first guy. I crouched low behind Tanizaki, straining my ears.

"Some punk just wandered into our territory like it was nothing," the first guy – Araki snarled.

"Hey! What are you doing here? Can you talk?" The second man yelled at fake-me.

I looked at Tanizaki. "Can he talk?"

He shook his head in response. "I only make visual illusions. I can't produce sound."

"OI! Are you mute?" The second guy stepped forward, striding towards fake-me. Stepping into the moonlight, I noticed he had an aluminum prosthetic left arm.

Then, a shocked expression registered on his face and he stumbled a few steps back. "What – why are you here?"

A small smirk pulled at the sides of my lips.

"What's wrong, Hamada-san?" Araki stared in confusion.

"I know you - you're …" Hamada started to look around wildly. I pressed Tanizaki-kun and myself, flat to the concrete. "Where's your partner?!"

"Huh? You know this guy?" Araki grabbed his shoulder.

"You're new so you wouldn't know but this bastard and his partner almost eliminated us two years ago!" Hamada pointed an accusatory metal finger at fake-me.

Araki frowned. "He's Port Mafia?"

"Yes!" Hamada grabbed the gun from Araki and almost shoved it into fake-me's face. Fake-me raised two bandaged hands in surrender. "Where's the other guy?"

"Wait, Hamada!" Araki cried suddenly. "Didn't we just get intel that the duo that attacked the Raiders in the past were disbanded?"

Hamada glanced at Araki in surprise. "We did?"

"Yeah!" Araki nodded. His face contorting into one of deep concentration. "What was his name …? That Na – Nakara, Nakama guy right? His partner left. Nakamara works alone in the Port Mafia now."

I raised an eyebrow and felt Tanizaki-kun shift uncomfortably.

"Shhh … Tanizaki-kun, not another word," I whispered.

"I didn't say any -"

"Hush now!"

"I …" Hamada looked torn. "No one told me."

Araki was nodding furiously now. "I'm sure of it! Our intel described Nakaraha too! Kind of short … red hair?"

"I remember the red hair!" Hamada cried out in anger. "If I ever do see him again, I will tear him apart – limb by limb."

I scoffed to myself. You can _try._ I tried to recall whether it was me or that chibi who took off some guy's arm that day … it was a long time ago.

Hamada glared at fake-me. "Well, why are _you_ so quiet?"

Fake-me lifted up his shoulders as a shrug. I laughed quietly. "Tanizaki-kun, you're so hilarious!"

The younger boy shot me a withering look.

"Not going to talk huh?" Hamada continued. "Well that's too bad. If you at least had something to say, we could have use you for information. But since you aren't even part of the Mafia anymore …"

Five other men came up from behind fake-me, all brandishing pistols.

"You're of no use to us," Hamada finished. And then, all the guns fired at once.

The illusion dissipated and fake-me de-materialised into freshly falling snow and then nothingness. The men below us started shouting in confusion and alarm.

I flopped over onto my back, staring at the night sky. There were no stars to look at tonight.

Tanizaki continued to lay low beside me. "What was that all about?" He whispered.

I sighed, closing my eyes. "You know Chuuya right?" Saying the name already left a foul taste in my mouth, but I suppose I owe the poor boy an explanation.

"Nakahara-san?"

"Yes, _him_ ," I confirmed. "Well, he and I destroyed Kawasaki's only criminal organisation – Blood Raid two years ago."

Tanizaki-kun waited but only silence followed. "Wait, that's it?"

I nodded. "That's it."

"That can't be it!" Tanizaki prodded in confusion. "You mean to say you dragged me all the way out here just to confirm their continued existence?"

I looked at him now, with wide eyes of surprise. "Is that bad?"

"Well, no …" Tanizaki struggled to phrase himself. "It's not _bad_ , it's just … I expected –" The boy trailed off, unsure. I waited patiently, turning my head back to the dark sky.

"So what are you going to do now?" He asked finally.

I shrugged. "Go home, take a shower and sleep, I guess."

I listened to the redhead sigh beside me. I can understand his exasperation – I was being aloof and distant for a reason after all. But then again, I had already explained to him fully why he was here and who we just encountered. That's enough, right? Why should I say any more?

Truth to be told, I _am_ slightly troubled by something. And maybe, just maybe, it's not something I'd like to think about right now, much less talk about it. I feel no need to burden myself with any more unnecessary stress, so I closed my eyes to the night sky and kept mum.

"Let's go back, then," I hear Tanizaki say softly.

The two of us headed back to the rickety ladder two or three buildings down, and walked back to the train station in silence.

We took the train together. Tanizaki chose to sit on an empty seat at the end while I stood beside him, leaning against the glass. We still haven't spoken a word. I suppose, if I had cared more, I'd be trying to make conversation – but sadly, I don't.

"Hey, Dazai-san," Tanizaki cleared his throat.

I braced myself for some complaint or hint of his annoyance at my behaviour today.

"How do you think the Raiders obtained that information about Nakahara-san and you … leaving the Mafia?"

To my surprise, Tanizaki had asked the very question I was troubled about! I peered at the ginger, slumped in his seat, propping up his body with his elbows on his knees.

Not bad, youngster. I was impressed. President really knows how to pick quality members for his organisation.

I hummed, thinking of a response. "To be frank, I don't know. But I really should find out."

Tanizaki sounds a little frustrated now. "How can you be so carefree about this? A criminal organisation just came back to life and has obtained information about you and the Port Mafia!"

I turned back to smile at him, meeting his hazel eyes. "Relax, Tanizaki-kun. I already have an idea. It's just a hunch really, but since when have my hunches ever been wrong?"

Unable to retort, the youngster closed his mouth and leaned back into his seat with another sigh.

I was pleased to find that the rest of the train ride was rather peaceful, a contrast to the turbulent thoughts in my mind.

* * *

 **Chuuya**

I swear I don't have a problem. I don't have a habit of finishing all my stockpiled alcohol within a week. It's just that, things have been so busy and stressful these days. There was absolutely no need for Ane-san to raid my entire kitchen.

Yet she's here, standing tall with a face of disapproval as her underlings extracted another empty wine bottle from my cupboards.

"Don't sulk, Chuuya," she rapped her knuckles on the kitchen counter, startling me.

I huffed, caught off-guard and crossed my arms behind her. "This is completely unnecessary!"

Ane-san whirled around, her extravagant kimono making an angry swish on my spotless floor. "Unnecessary? You come in late for work in a drunken stupor and that's not a cause for concern?"

The anger in her flashing eyes were barely disguised. I suppressed a shiver – I need to stand up for myself. I'm not a child anymore!

"Ane-san. I was doing fine –"

"If your definition of 'fine' is coming in reeking of alcohol and mailing the paperwork to the wrong department," she took in a deep breath here, "then I'm really disappointed in you."

"It's not my fault there're so many reports to finish …" I murmured under my breath.

Ane-san clicked her tongue at me. "You know Mori-san really wants to tie this business deal. All operations must run smoothly."

"He's working us all to death! The Port Mafia must have what, tripled their total assets by now? I doubt this new weapons company needs _this_ much money …"

"Mori-san knows what he's doing. It would be a huge benefit to all of us if everyone had free state-of-the-art weaponry."

"The amount he's investing could bankrupt the whole Mafia –"

Ane-san narrowed her eyes. "He knows what he's doing. I assure you."

I snapped my mouth shut and looked the other way. Fine then. End the debate your way. I'll keep all opinions to myself from now on.

Finally, Ane-san's underlings had finished collecting all my bottles of alcohol, bundled together in a few large trash bags. She waved them away to dispose of them.

"14 bottles, in a week. Are you trying to kill yourself, Chuuya?" Ane-san rounded on me.

I didn't answer, nor look at her, but I already knew she was executing a perfect one-eyebrow raise with her arched right brow.

"You've been drinking more ever since those incidents occurred, are you aware? If you're looking to join that suicidal traitor in death –"

"I'm _not_." I glared at her in disbelief. How could she even think that?

Ane-san sighed, but her eyes were still hard. "Chuuya, your work has been subpar lately. You're not doing very well and you space out too much. Boss has noticed too."

Feeling slightly attacked, I folded my arms tighter. "I'll do better. I promise. I'm just not used to being overworked like this."

A moment of silence passed us before one of Ane-san's subordinates came to report that my alcohol had all been disposed. She nodded to him and walked up to me, placing a well-manicured hand on my shoulder.

"Chuuya, be honest with yourself."

She headed to the door, only looking back once to call out, "I've already instructed Kanoko-kun to take on the rest of your work. You are to remain at home to collect yourself, today."

Then, Ane-san was gone. The only trace of her was the lingering scent of her fragrant perfume in my kitchen.

I sighed heavily, a mixture of frustration and confusion bubbling in my chest. I have a feeling Ane-san thinks my increased intake of alcohol was due to being forced to relive twice, working with a certain rotten traitor for those two nights but that's absolutely not the case.

I don't think I could ever tell her, or anyone for that matter about my nightmares. Usually they're not that big of a deal but they had been becoming more personal of late. They often touched on memories I never want to experience again, memories of back then - back when we were still Double Black …

My phone rang all of a sudden, causing me to jump. Feeling embarrassed for no reason, I reached into my pocket and fumbled with my phone, almost dropping it once. I barely even registered the caller ID.

"Y – yes. Hello?"

"Nakahara-san," came Okamoto Kanoko's voice from the other end. I faintly recall Ane-san telling me she had assigned all my work to her today when she left.

I cleared my throat, hoping that I sounded more awake than my drunken babbling this evening when I had just reported for work. "How can I help?"

"The financial transactions to Orkland Private Limited. Where should I mail them to?"

I paused. Orkland Pte Ltd was the name of the weapons manufacturing company Boss was collaborating with. I remember him giving me an address to mail out certain sensitive documents to.

"Hang on," I instructed, digging my pockets for a certain note. Finally, I managed to fish out a slightly crumpled piece of folded paper. Unfolding it, I read the address and name of building where they were running the business.

"Goldwire Factory?" Okamoto repeated.

"Yes, you should address them as such."

"Not Orkland Pte Ltd?"

"No," I explained, "Goldwire Factory is the building in which they are currently operating in, under that name."

Illegal weapons manufacturing is after all, something one would want to hide from the government.

"Okay, got it," she replied. "Nakahara-san, I'll be hanging up now."

I tucked the note back into my pocket and nodded. Then, I realised again, that one cannot see me if they're on a call. "Uhh … okay."

Then, feeling a little sorry for her, I quickly called out. "Wait!"

I should thank her for taking on all of my work. I do feel a little guilty …

"Yes, Nakahara-san?"

I scratched my nose awkwardly. "Well … umm. Thank you, Okamoto …"

"For?"

"Handling my work for the day," I said quickly. Then I added, "I know you're very competent so take this as an opportunity to climb higher in the ranks."

A small laugh came from the other end of the line, unexpectedly. "Thanks, Nakahara-san. I hope I can continue to work with you, so please continue taking care of me."

Unsure of how to respond, I stammered. "O – Okay …"

"Take care," she said finally before hanging up.

I stared at my cellphone for a few seconds before realising I was weirdly spacing out again and proceeded to my couch, letting myself sink into the cushions.

Part of me felt bad since this was the earliest I had been sent home ever (it was only 10pm!) and another part of me just felt … conflicted. On one hand, I really wished I was still at the office doing the paperwork and on the other hand, I was glad I wasn't there for I would never have been able to receive this phone call.

Something about what Okamoto-kun said about wanting to work with me made me strangely happy …

At the same time, it was worrying – because deep down inside, I knew the reason and I didn't want to face it.

Mentally, I kicked myself for missing being in a partnership with someone. I don't _need_ anyone. I'm fine by myself and no one can tell me otherwise! I've worked so hard to reach where I am now – surely I must have proven my individual strength!

I've become a Mafia Executive on my own, sitting in that traitor's chair … it definitely proves my worth to the Mafia. I have no need to rely on anyone else anymore, even if such an enticing offer presented itself.

Feeling drowsy, I laid back, resting my head on the arm of my couch. I feel the hard, twisted pit in my stomach slowly uncoil as I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow. Dazai does some work for once.


	5. Untruthful

**Chuuya**

I dusted my gloved hands as I surveyed the wreckage all around me. Giving a low whistle, I thanked Mori silently for this job. Recently I've been getting all the boring ones that's just got to do with the supervision of some department or other. But this time, I've been sent to wreak havoc in the name of revenge – which is obviously, what I do best.

Unfortunately, I wasn't sent alone. The bandage-freak was sent ahead to collect some intel first before rendezvousing with me. Honestly, this is probably the only use we have of him. The idiot has done nothing but sit by, content in letting me carry out all the dirty work myself. Well whatever, he'd probably only get in the way if he tried to help.

Speaking of which, where the hell is he?

I spun around, looking over the rubble, calling his name over and over again. Clambering about, I lifted chunks of debris, hoping nothing crushed him. Not that I actually cared about his pathetic life. I just didn't want to report the death of Mori's favourite pet.

Digging deeper, I found him on top of an unconscious man below a slab of concrete. Pulling it off, my idiot partner got up, smiling as he held up a keychain with some plushie on it.

"What the heck?" I panted, eyebrows knitting together in frustration.

"Worried about me, Chuuya?"

"Hah! Not in the least!"

The dark-clad man shrugged. "Well, in any case, I'm glad I got to retrieve this limited edition _gashapon_ charm! It was hanging off this guy's phone –"

Ignoring his silly babbling, I started to walk away, through the rubble and back to the forest from where we ambushed our targets.

I was droning out his voice so eventually, it faded out to white noise and then nothingness. However, walking through the forest in complete silence was getting to be a little unsettling. I like to be aware of where the suicidal bastard was at any point in time, lest he pulls something stupid. So, I whirled around to glare at him …

Except that all I saw were trees and thick foliage surrounding me.

"Oi, oi! Stop playing tricks and come out from wherever you're hiding!" I yelled angrily.

Dead silence continued to greet me.

Sensing something was wrong, I doubled back and ran through the trees, calling out his name for the second time that day.

Wait, what was it again? His … name?

The sun had already begun to set as we left but it was unusually dark right now. Staring at my surroundings, the trees seemed to grow taller, thicker. There was an ominous darkness encroaching from all around. It was coming closer and closer and I had nowhere to run.

Panicking, I tried to call out for help, for him … Only that I can't remember his name anymore. Why can't I remember his name?

Right about when the darkness fully engulfed me, my voice gave out; throat hoarse from screaming.

I never found him again.

* * *

 **Dazai**

When I walked into the café, it was already past 12 but for some reason I didn't feel a hint of tiredness. Instead, my mind was working on overdrive.

Confirming the continued, revived existence of Blood Raid had just made things more interesting. And while I had a hunch about where things were going, as I've told Tanizaki-kun, I still need to confirm how things have gone.

The bell above the door tinkled, signalling my entrance. 3 seconds later, the elderly lady exited from her kitchen, freezing momentarily as she saw me.

Not forgetting my impoliteness during my last visit, I gave her a sheepish smile. "Ah, what an awkward situation. Could I possibly diffuse the tension with this single, lovely buttercup?" I held up the yellow flower as a peace offering.

After regarding me for a moment, the elderly lady finally gave a toothy grin. "Oh my. Buttercups are poisonous – I wonder what this could imply."

"Perhaps I am merely suggesting a suicide pact of sorts?"

"I see you haven't found your beautiful partner, yet. Am I your last resort?"

I pretend to look offended. "Not at all, Ma'am!"

She chuckled, gesturing for me to sit as she disappeared back into the kitchen. When she emerged, she was holding a steaming cup of coffee which she gently placed on my table by the window.

"I thought you might have finally passed on as you haven't been here for a while," the old lady started, "but seeing as you are here, with a flower you picked from the wild bushes around this café, you must have a purpose."

Caught red-handed, but I didn't bother denying that little fact. "Heh, well then. Shall I get to the point?"

"Please do."

I took a long sip of coffee, sighing at the strong flavour before starting. "See, I'm a representative from the Armed Detective Agency. Surely you must have heard of us?"

"I might have," was the wry reply.

"Awesome!" I exclaimed, "That makes things so much easier! I'll cut straight to the chase, then. At the moment, we're investigating a criminal organisation that we suspect you might be involved in!"

The old lady raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yes, you," I confirmed, then slyly added, stirring my coffee, "… or any other members of your family."

She smiled politely. "I have no family left."

"Is that so?"

The elderly lady replied unfazed, "Unless you're referring to the ghosts of my past."

I thought about the answer. How should I proceed now? I could always, of course, ask her outright …

"You said you were a detective from the government, didn't you?" She mused. "Wouldn't you have my personal particulars already?"

I grinned, swallowing another mouthful of rich coffee. "There's more fun to finding out than simply, knowing."

The old lady laughed lightly. "Is that why this is your career?"

"Sorry?"

"A detective for an occupation," she specified. "I remember the first time I met you, you said you haven't found something to look forward to in life. Is this job your way of trying to find a reason to live?"

I felt something knotting in my gut. There might be something wrong with the delicious coffee after all. Too much of a good thing was bad for you, right? Wasn't there such a saying?

I continued to down my drink. If it really were bad for me, I'll just kill myself right now by overdosing on it.

Alas, however, my drink was soon gone and I am still alive. I know this for a fact because of the lingering, burning, bitter taste the coffee left in my mouth.

"I'm here because of a friend," I said finally. "That's all there is to this. It was his recommendation which I simply chose to take."

"For a reason."

"Yes," I admitted, wondering why I was so talkative. "I took it because I valued his friendship. But ultimately," I paused for a bit, "there's not much difference between my last job and this one."

The elderly lady spoke slowly. "But if I remember correctly, you lost something, didn't you?"

I blinked. What is she talking about? But even as the question echoed in my mind, my head had also started to conjure up memories from a bygone era. I could feel the gears in my head working. I could make a calculated choice right here, right now to deny everything and leave. I could even sweet talk my way back into getting more information out of her to aid my case. Or I could just give up rationality altogether.

What purpose would that serve though?

It wouldn't add anything to the grand scheme of things.

I wasn't here as a regular customer chatting about the on-goings of my life or my past.

I was, am, a detective on a job.

I _must_ carry it out.

Doing anything else would be a waste of time and energy.

"You're thinking really hard," her voice cut into my thoughts. "I can practically see you calculating every response you can give and each scenario it would lead to."

I sighed, playing with the rim of my empty cup. "I don't see anything wrong with making a logical decision."

"No," she agreed. "But it might hurt you, eventually. That will impact your emotional wellbeing."

I laughed, actually laughed. Emotional wellbeing? Feelings get in the way of productivity. Feelings allow one to be manipulated. But at the same time, I thought, licking my lips, they allow me to manipulate others.

"Lady," I held my stomach as my laughter subsided. "Don't worry about me. I can assure you I'm not doing anything that will ultimately harm me … well, except for suicide of course, but I see that as a benefit –"

"You might hurt or harm someone else with your ways, however. Are you okay with that?" The elderly lady looked at me sternly.

I laid down some notes on the table and got up, still smiling as I left. "I've long grown accustomed to that."

Yes, that's right. For the last person I've hurt with my logical reasoning, was none other than my completely illogical, over-sentimental ex-partner.

If I can live with such a betrayal, then I have no problems hurting people I consider random strangers.

* * *

 **Chuuya**

I awoke with a jolt, feeling out of breath and panting hard.

As my vision gradually adjusted to the darkness, I saw that I was staring at the ceiling of my living room. Wiping the perspiration away from my brow, I turned my head to the side to the clock on the wall which read half past 2 in the morning.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the arm of my couch, silently swearing. Another nightmare. Another nightmare from a memory four years ago. How wonderful.

Finally, I turned to my side, curling up and recalling the dream. Then, I decided I didn't want to after all. Perhaps these nightmares keep happening because I keep thinking about them. I really should stop analysing them.

Even if I do find it discomforting that they all involve a certain individual of late.

I sat up, feeling my throat was as dry and hoarse as it got in my dream and stumbled into the kitchen for water. Though it quenched my thirst, it didn't quite help soothe my nerves and I soon found myself craving for something much stronger.

Unfortunately, since my apartment had been cleansed of liquid sin, my confused and sleep-deprived brain decided on impulse I might as well slip downstairs for some tea. I rationalised that I probably needed a short walk and night-time air to clear my head too. And with that thought, I grabbed my long coat and headed outside.

It was dark and I realised the moon wasn't out. The sky was just as clouded as my head. There was also a chilly breeze out tonight and instinctively, I pulled my coat around my shoulders tighter, cursing under my breath for forgetting my hat.

As my ears slowly froze, I made my way to the flashy café in record time, slipping inside its warmth without any hesitation.

Involuntarily, I sighed. It was quiet (no customers tonight) and warm. Just what I needed.

"Look who's here," a familiar voice greeted me.

I made a sound between a grunt and "hello" before heading towards my usual table, wondering for the hundredth time why nobody ever sits here.

"You look … horrid," the elderly lady said, appearing at my side at once.

My head snapped up. "I'm sorry, I just woke up!"

"Did you now?" I felt a prickle of irritation at her perfect eyebrow raise. Great another one.

But because I'm the more mature, I decided to overlook her patronising and asked for a warm cup of tea instead.

"Any tea."

"Any?"

"I just want something warm and sweet," I specified, not really caring to glance at the menu.

I watched her disappear unhurriedly into the kitchen, my vision blurring out slightly. Subconsciously, my disturbed mind drifted back to the events of today. Getting sent home early, Ane-san disposing of all my liquor …

I _do_ need to fix this problem, quick. Not the usual nightmares, 'cause those won't stop – I've tried everything. But more specifically, the recent vivid nightmares about this one, reoccurring person. That is ridiculous! How is he still such a pain in my life after so many years?

 _Because I let him,_ an annoying voice in my head taunted. In response, my nerves prickled at my own frustration.

The clink of porcelain interrupted my thoughts and I was pulled back to the present instantly. When the elderly lady drew back, I was faced with a cup of steaming, swirling, clear, golden liquid.

"That's chamomile with a bit of honey and lemon," she stated. "It'll help soothe your nerves."

I glared at her. "What makes you think my nerves need any soothing? I'm perfectly fine."

The elderly lady shrugged. "You seem particularly irritable today – and you came in asking for something warm and sweet. So I just assumed something might have happened."

I made a sound that sounded like a cross between a grunt and a huff to indicate my displeasure. I realised I would be proving her right if I started to yell and so I resolved to keep my frustration to myself.

After marvelling at the clarity of the golden liquid which reflected amber tones under the light, I finally lifted the cup to my lips and took a long sip.

It was the most comforting feeling I've felt in a long time.

The tea instantly soothed my throat and my nerves. It's warmth filling my entire body down to my fingertips, immediately alleviating any cold.

"I thought you might like it," I hear the old lady say.

"I do," and I answer honestly, setting down the cup.

There was a moment of silence as I rubbed my eyes and just breathed deeply. I really needed that. Whatever this chamomile tea thing is. Could I buy it in bulk somewhere?

"You know," the lady spoke up again. "Looking at your satisfaction really reminds me of someone."

I glanced at her, feeling decidedly more agreeable. "Really?"

She looked thoughtful as she pondered her response. "My daughter …"

"You said she moved away," I said, ignoring the fact that I actually remembered this fact.

"Yes," she replied with a smile (dammit! It didn't go unnoticed!), "but back when we were still living together, I always made her chamomile tea to help her sleep."

I blinked, her daughter has sleeping problems too?

"It was the only thing that soothed her," the elderly lady continued, looking into the window beside me. "She couldn't stop tossing and turning at night for a good 3 months since that day."

"Did she …" I started, but trailed off seeing the lady's eyes snap back to me. She continued to stare expectantly at me. I hesitated, clutching at the cup for more warmth. "Did she use to …. Ummm. Experience nightmares?"

The old lady bit her lip. "Well no, I don't think. She just had fitful bouts of sleep. She has never mentioned having any nightmares."

I drank my tea slowly. I never mention my nightmares either.

"Though, then again, who would willingly admit that?" The elderly lady said, reading my thoughts. I looked at her in surprise.

"Especially since …" she continued slowly, a little hint of hurt in her voice. " …. Since Kano-chan blames me for what happened."

I found myself whispering. "What happened?

The elderly lady's eyes glazed over, clouded in her thoughts and memories. "Her father, my husband died. Kano-chan blames me for his death … I think she still does."

"Have you spoken to her about it?" I suggested, unsure of what else I could say.

She shook her head. "I've tried but … we haven't spoken in years and – there's really nothing I can say."

Then, the elderly lady looked right at me. "After all, I can't revive my husband's death. But you might still have the ability to fix whatever's troubling you. So take every opportunity to, before it's too late."

Involuntarily, I had clenched my fists which have begun to shake. Fix it? I'd have to strangle a certain someone with my bare hands in order to satiate my hate, then.

But … what does that mean? That my nightmares are a result of a deep loathing and hate for one person? For some reason, that doesn't seem quite right either.

Could it be that recently working with him again had raised memories of the years he had tormented me? It's like experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder. Right?

But that didn't seem like it either. And no matter how much I try to lie to myself, I know that that's just not the root reason or cause for my nightmares.

I chugged down the rest of my tea, swallowing a sob as I did so. I _hate_ being honest with myself.

"I'm sorry," the elderly lady apologised as I handed her a few notes for the drink.

"Please don't be," I said thickly. "I really don't need your pity."

Then I left the café and headed straight home where I immediately climbed into my bed. Perhaps it was the chamomile tea or my outburst of emotions, or even both, but I was so exhausted, I fell into a dreamless sleep instantly.

* * *

 **A/N:** Honestly (Ha!) the only person not lying to themselves right now is the elderly lady. Kind of sad but we'll see what happens.


	6. As Fate would Have it

**Dazai**

This morning feels slightly different from the rest. That was the first thing I thought upon opening my eyes. There was barely any light in the room even though it was 7am. The sky was a dreary grey, cloudy and murky, like my sleep.

I got up to shower and dress appropriately for work (the same old, same old) before making myself my daily morning coffee in the kitchen. As I stirred the cup, I couldn't help but remember yesterday's events. Or more specifically, what took place at the café.

The old lady had done it again. She just always effortlessly manages to stir up memories of the past. Not that I was trying to forget them in the first place – but it was irritating because she kept reminding me of the annoying bits.

First that chibi.

Now Odasaku.

I mused over that name as I drank in my coffee. Oda Sakunosuke. I haven't thought of him in a long, long time. That amused me slightly as he was basically the reason why I had done a 180 on the Port Mafia and joined the Armed Detective Agency, much to their chagrin. I suppose, I owe it all to him; all the fun I am having now. I had all the more reason to mess around with the Mafia now!

Sighing happily, I leaned back on my chair and thought of the times when the three of us hung out at the bar just engaging in idle chitchat. My favourite parts were always when I was relating the events of the day and revelling in my latest prank on that hat-rack of a partner. Oda, though always steadfastly deadpanned, would let out a hum of disapproval while dearest Ango always sighed and rolled his eyes.

But the best part was, despite their displeasure, I never stopped tormenting my partner. Where would be the fun in being responsible and respectful anyway? Surely the delight in life must be watching a certain redhead scream as his coat caught on fire or panic while he searched for his phone. They were all definitely harmless pranks – I mean, hey, he's still alive right?

I released my head back, closing my eyes and let myself get lost in those recollections, wave upon wave of memories coming and going in quick flashes. Odasaku's rare smile as I made a pun, Ango lecturing us on the importance of propriety, _Petit Mafia_ trying to push me off him discreetly as we staked out a location …

But one particular memory stood out. This particular memory didn't just flash by, no. It played out slowly in my mind, vivid and bright, as if just newly formed yesterday. The flare of familiar red against a golden sunset spread over the horizon of Yokohama's waters … Beautiful, ethereal, and unreachable. His silhouette was so stunningly poignant that it evoked a bundle of emotions in me. Emotions I had been suppressing.

And then, that's when I felt them. Light and shimmering, almost ticklish.

Tears.

I raised a bandaged hand slowly to my face, resting the back of my palm over my eyes. I wasn't mistaken. My skin felt damp to touch.

Honestly, I was both surprised and unsurprised at myself. Surprised because I never thought I was capable of such an emotion, unsurprised because well, as a human, I guess I am. I haven't ever cried in my life – I didn't even cry at _his_ death … why was I tearing up now?

Strangely enough, they didn't feel unpleasant – the tears, I mean, it did intensify a foreign pain in my chest, but relishing in it … that felt more cathartic than anything.

Then, I realised in that moment, I missed those days.

I missed _him_.

Sluggishly, I pulled myself up to a standing position and carried my cup to the sink to pour away the remaining coffee.

It was already cold anyway.

* * *

 **Chuuya**

I hastily ascended the stairs to my office – the lifts always took too long. The moment I burst through the door, I was greeted by a shocked gasp which startled me too.

"Okamoto-kun," I regained my composure as she did. I was _not_ expecting to see anyone in my office; I almost moved to attack her and _just_ stopped myself in time. "It's only 4pm, what are you doing here so early?"

"I reported earlier to hand in these documents," The brunette replied, smoothing down her formal white blouse. "See?" She stepped aside and gestured to a few brown large envelopes on my desk.

As I came closer, she cleared her throat to continue. "Orkland Pte Ltd just faxed in their acknowledgement of payment today, product specifications and shipping details. I've compiled them all into this envelope," Okamoto said, pointing to the first one sitting on top. "The second envelope just contains the corrected report on the warehouse raid we did a few nights ago."

I opened the envelopes and took out the documents, skimming through them quickly. A moment of silence passed, and when I was finally done, I sorted the papers back in their brown wrappings and looked at my co-worker with a smile.

"Well done," I said genuinely. "This is brilliant work, thank you for uhh … covering for me yesterday." I scratched my head sheepishly.

Okamoto laughed. "I'm happy to be of help to my mentor."

"Some mentor I am," I sighed. "Sorry for being so unprofessional yesterday."

"We all have those days."

"Yes but …" I gripped the envelopes tighter in my hands. I'm not sure what I wish to say. Thank you? I've already done that. Sorry? I've just apologised too.

Noticing my difficulty, Okamoto quickly cut in. "You should go send these envelopes to Boss by the way. He's already in office."

Grateful for the switch in focus, I headed for the door immediately. "Thanks for your work! Get some rest," I called out before closing it.

As I climbed the stairs with a slow jog, I wondered why I paused then and what I wanted to convey. If I was being truthful with myself …

A lump formed in my throat. It's probably just the leftover alcohol in my system talking but I for some reason, may have wanted to tell her to stop calling me her mentor and instead –

I shook my head violently. Never again.

Finally, I reached the top floor and marvelled at the long corridor that stretched before me. Wall to wall, ceiling to floor windows adorned the left of the corridor, allowing the bright afternoon sun to illuminate the space generously. As I walked down the carpeted floor, I couldn't help but admire the view of beautiful Yokohama below me.

Two guards stood at the bronze double doors at the end of the corridor. They nodded in greeting at me as I approached – I was a regular visitor.

However, the double doors suddenly opened and out came a man who was _not_ commonly seen in these parts. Decked in all black but for a spotless white cravat, was my junior – Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.

"Chuuya-san," he gave a stiff nod upon seeing me.

"Akutagwa-kun," I replied, a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He crossed his lanky arms (this kid needs ten burgers a day and I feel partially responsible, as his senior to feed him) and sighed. "Mori – Boss is putting me in charge of the Black Lizard temporarily."

I raised an eyebrow. "What about Hirotsu?"

"Hirotsu-san will be out of commission for the rest of this week," Akutagawa explained. "He just came down with a high fever after a fight in the rain."

I hummed in response. I wished the best for him as a fellow colleague but there's no denying that his old age is wearing him down slowly. I glanced at Akutagawa thoughtfully, with a few more years this kid could –

"Chuuya-san?"

I faltered, and quickly replied. "Ah! I was just concerned for you. I know you hate working in groups but you can definitely do it! You don't have a lot of missions scheduled, do you?"

Akutagawa scowled slightly. "There is one … we have to escort a client's son out of the holding cell in a police station …"

"Oh that's interesting," I said, a memory flashing in my mind. "I remember Ane-san taking me to see a similar mission when I first joined the Mafia."

"Really?" Was the toneless response.

"Yeah," I continued. "We had to retrieve an intelligence officer or someone, but you know. When they say 'retrieve', they really mean 'gun down the entire office'. I guess I was there to watch and you know, learn how things worked in the Mafia."

Glancing at my junior, he seemed fidgety but respectfully attentive. I sighed, I could tell he wanted to leave.

"Well, have fun!" I said, waving him off.

Looking thankful to be dismissed, Akutagawa gave another stiff nod and hurried away.

I heaved another sigh, this kid needs a trip to a theme park or something. One day, one day I'll crack open that sad, despairing shell of his and teach him how to have fun.

After mulling over my junior's constant depression, I rapped on the double doors and announced my name.

I hear cooing, a high-pitched squeal, some shushing and frantic murmuring. Then finally, after a pause of silence, I hear my Boss say "Enter."

The guards swung open the doors for me and I walked into a dimly-lit room with a rich carpeted floor, armchairs, and a well-furnished table at the end. There was a man behind that table, looking lovingly at an overly-dressed girl with flowing golden locks as she tucked into a luxurious cream cake while doodling on the floor.

It was a scene I had seen countless of times.

"Good afternoon, Boss," I bowed respectfully before the Mafia head, then straightened. "Here are the documents and reports regarding Orkland Pte Ltd and the raid on Killinger's warehouse." I said while handing out the envelopes. As he thumbed through them, I rattled on about the details, highlighting all the important and necessary aspects.

When I was done, he gave me a nod of approval. "Very good, Chuuya."

Feeling a little sheepish, I corrected him. "This was all compiled by Okamoto Kanoko-kun. She did all the work."

"No wonder," Mori smiled, "since you were out of commission yesterday."

I felt a flush creep onto my cheeks. "I apologise for my disgraceful behaviour. Won't happen again."

He let out a chuckle, his expression didn't seem the least bit angry. "Well, I have nothing to worry about since it seems you have a very capable subordinate."

"She is very talented," I nodded, agreeing. "She's diligent and an honest worker."

"I'm glad to hear," Mori replied. "Looks like you're really getting along with her. Maybe I should promote her."

His tone was light and teasing but I can't tell if he was actually serious or not. I decided the best thing to do was to remain quiet.

Another laugh came from him. "Why are you so formal today, Chuuya? You're usually more talkative! Why don't you tell me your opinions on this girl?"

I bristled slightly. "Hah? I already said she shows outstanding performance!"

"Is that all?"

"That's all," I said stiffly, crossing my arms.

Mori smiled wider. "Well I personally think you both work well as a team, don't you think so too?"

"Maybe," I shrugged. What was he hinting at?

"Perhaps as well as … Soukoku?"

I almost cracked the cement under the pretty carpeted floor. "What?!"

"Hmm … You're right," Mori nodded. "I haven't seen a pair that outperforms Soukoku yet –"

"We can barely stop ourselves from killing each other!" I was aware that I'm basically yelling at the Head of the Port Mafia but I couldn't care less at this point. "We were so mismatched –"

"Yet, you two made it _work_ ," Mori cut in smoothly. "Both of you spurred each other on and supported each other. I'm sure you've realised too, the impact of his leave on yourself."

I growled. "You mean his betrayal? Yes, I've realised now that he is nothing but a rotten traitor and the scum of the earth." Then, I promptly turned on my heel and marched towards the door. "I'm taking my own leave now!"

"Wasn't Soukoku that loving couple –" I hear the girl – Elise say just as I opened the doors and quickly yelled back.

"WE HATE EACH OTHER!"

Aargh! I'm about to go insane! One after the other. The old lady, Ane-san, Mori, my nightmares, why on earth do they all keep reminding me of _his_ existence. When will I ever get rid of his past association to me? I want nothing more to do with him. Why can't anyone respect that?

I hate him. I've despised him for as long as I could remember. Even as he saved me during the countless times I've lost control, even as he carried me back to my apartment, and even as he tended to my injuries.

 _Because deep down I knew, that it would hurt more if I didn't._

I clutched at my chest, immediately hating myself for thinking that. Ignoring the stares on my back as I walked away briskly. I needed to steady myself, steady my breathing …

The day – evening past uneventfully. I didn't have much to do since Okamoto basically finished everything for me. So all I did was sit in my office and stewed things over.

But of course, that only made the pain in my chest worse, so I called it an early day and signed off at 11 for the first time ever.

For some unexplained reason, I felt lonelier than I have ever felt in my life. I was exhausted from fighting from something … myself? Why was I fighting myself? What was I fighting for?

When I paused outside the brightly lit café on my way home, I remembered the old lady urging me to take every opportunity to fix whatever's been troubling me before it's too late.

 _But it's been four years._ Another thought escaped from the tightly-bound recesses of my mind.

It _is_ too late.

Stumbling into the café, I realised what I'd been fighting all along.

I was fighting back my own tears.

* * *

 **Dazai**

Well, well, what have we here …

Nothing. Zilch.

This girl wasn't a registered ability user and had no prior affiliation to any criminal organisation – Blood Raid included.

So how come there was evidence of her being involved with them before she went missing? Perhaps I should look at Kawasaki's news archives to see if she was potentially involved in any of the Raiders' past activities …

I leaned back into my chair and propped my feet up on the table. If Kunikida-kun were here, he would be yelling at me to take my feet off. But thankfully, he had already gone home, as did the other ADA members. It was after all, 11pm already.

Under normal circumstances, I would be home too. In fact, I tend to sign off earlier than the rest (aching back problems you know, definitely not because I'm lazy), but _Mother_ had forced me to stay on until I finished my work.

It's not my fault that I couldn't finish my work though! It isn't exactly fair to dump me more work to do on top of the case I'm already currently working on! Unlike _some_ people, I'm not an angry, notebook-loving workaholic …

I clicked my tongue at the lack of gratitude and support I should have received from my co-workers for shouldering an entire case by –

But I didn't get to finish that thought for something caught my eye. Leaning towards the screen, I re-read the newspaper article I was just about to skim past.

On 1 January, probably as an announcement for their comeback, or new beginning, or whatever, Blood Raid conducted a bank robbery in Kawasaki. Zooming into the picture, I noticed a few street signs that looked familiar. I opened up the tab to the girl's profile and looked at her addresses, cross-referencing to a digital map …

Bingo! A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. The bank was situated right next to the office she had previously worked at!

Ah, so now we know that she was most likely alerted to their presence with the robbery and probably sought them out herself, rather than the other way round.

So if she and Blood Raid had agreed to collaborate or correspond in any way, that would explain the traces of evidence of her involvement with them.

Now we just have to find out why … and most importantly, where she was at this moment.

I thought about my hunch that I had been having ever since I had visually confirmed the presence of Blood Raid with Tanizaki. It had been more a wild guess at the time but now I can actually say it's gaining some ground.

 _Biological father was killed by the Port Mafia._

I licked my lips, reading that sentence on her profile. Her mother had confirmed that too. There was definitely a high chance I was right. And if I was right, I had to take action immediately. I feel a sense of urgency, recalling the information Blood Raid had gathered and considering who was already involved.

Me, of course. I was worried for only myself.

I switched off the computer at my desk and gathered my things, steadfastly ignoring a voice in my head. It was a quarter to 12 and I knew I still had a lot of time before the café closed but the adrenaline in my veins was making me move faster.

Then, I forced myself to take in a deep breath. All emotions had to be controlled, excitement and sense of urgency were no exception.

Letting logic take over, I packed up and left the office calmly, locking the doors behind me. Then, I leisurely made my way to the café.

I entered the café as per usual, hearing the bell tinkle to welcome my presence as per usual, heading to my usual table as per usual.

"Oh my!" I hear the elderly lady exclaim just as I realised someone had already taken my seat.

"Ah," the lady hurried to me. "Sorry, but this seat is taken –"

"By the 5-foot hat-stand?" I said, backing towards the door.

A string of profanities greeted me as that person too, turned around and just realised who had just walked in.

"I'm sorry, didn't realise this was kiddy corner – will take my leave immediately."

* * *

 **A/N:** THEY FINALLY MEET ASDFGHJLKL;DKPLD;KSLF


	7. Curious concern

Dazai's heart almost (much to his dismay) stopped when he saw that someone was in his usual seat. More specifically, when he saw a certain _someone_ in his usual seat. And wait – his back was turned to him but, was he hearing … sobbing noises?

"Ah," the old lady running the place hurried over. "Sorry, but this seat is taken –"

Instinctively, out of habit mostly, the first thing he did was throw the redhead an insult whilst backing away casually. "By the 5-foot hat-stand?"

At the same time, said hat-stand had turned around, noticed his presence and quickly glanced away, letting out a colourful string of expletives.

Dazai turned around. "I'm sorry, didn't realise this was kiddy corner – will take my leave immediately."

But before he could take another step, he felt a hand grabbing the back of his coat, and shoving him hard into the wall. Already prepared for this, Dazai made sure to throw his head forward so that his skull wouldn't split against the bricks.

"Why are _you_ here?!" A pair of flashing sapphire eyes met his gaze. For a short second, he forgot how to use his voice.

"Chuuuuya~" Dazai sang, smiling. "Am I interrupting your Happy Meal?"

The hand at his collar twisted, almost choking him. "What do you want?!"

"What's happening here?" The elderly lady tried to cut in.

"Shut up!" Chuuya snarled at her, causing her to flinch. "Stay out of this!"

"Tsk tsk! Have you lost all civility after –"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT, DAZAI?!"

 _Good question._ Dazai thought. He felt like he had just been thrown off balance and everything was spiralling out of control. Why was this happening to him?

"Uhhh …"

Chuuya pulled back a fist, shaking. "Why aren't you answering me? Speak or I'll make sure you can never speak again!"

Dazai swallowed, his mind desperately working to ignore Chuuya's tear-tracked face. He wasn't mistaken, he _was_ crying. _Why was he crying?_ He forced himself to smile patronisingly.

"Chuuya, maybe your midget brain cannot comprehend this but this place is a café? And when people walk into one they usually want food –"

"GODDAMMIT DAZAI!" Chuuya released his punch into the wall, inches away from his ear. His head hung low and he was shaking slightly. "I don't know what you are scheming but I can't deal with your bullshit right now."

And with that, Chuuya ran out of the door, almost colliding with a couple who were just about to stroll in.

The elderly lady shot Dazai a look before going to help the couple. Fixing his collar and patting his clothes down, he took a seat where Chuuya had just been and imagined his silhouette dashing away in the dark.

* * *

 **Dazai**

I propped my elbows onto the table and held my head, already feeling a headache coming. I guess it was inevitable. I hadto run into the short-stack sooner or later. I'd been coming here almost every day. And considering the proximity of this café to Chuuya's apartment, it was actually weird that we haven't run into each other before tonight.

Still, nothing could have prepared me for this _._ I didn't expect to walk in on him _crying._ And oh, he was most definitely crying. I didn't miss the quick swipe of his hand across his face when he glanced down upon seeing me, or the tear tracks on his cheeks and his trembling grip on my collar. The Chuuya I knew … the Chuuya I knew would have punched me right in the gut already, or dragged me outside to finish the brawl. He wouldn't have ended things by giving up and running away …

What was going on?

"What did you do?" the elderly lady asked, coming to my table.

"Me?" I asked disbelievingly. All I did was walk in!

The elderly lady raised an eyebrow. "People don't normally burst outright upon seeing a person."

Oh. I shrugged, staring at the almost-empty tea cup left on the table. "Maybe he's got anger issues. Don't think he's normal."

"Really?"

Resisting the urge to pick up the cup, I tore my eyes away and looked at lady. "Why was he crying?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious," I said tonelessly.

The old lady rolled her eyes. "You mispronounced 'concerned'."

Scoffing, I quickly shot back. "Look, lady. I just want to know why I'm sitting here still alive. Under normal circumstances, he'd have tried to kill me. I'm curious – even perturbed by his behaviour tonight. Now will you tell me why he was crying?"

After a long hard stare, the elderly lady finally relented with a sigh. "I don't know how much I can tell you … but he was already crying when he entered the café."

"And … did you guys chat about anything?"

"He just asked for some tea in between sobs and I let him cry freely. I didn't try to talk to him after giving him his tea."

Still unconvinced, I pressed on. "Did he _say_ anything while crying?"

"Only a few phrases and broken sentences," the old lady narrowed her eyes. "You're certainly interested. What's your relationship with him?"

"No comment."

She continued speaking. "Let me guess. You two were once friends and now hate each other."

Frowning, I couldn't help but ask, "where'd you get that from?"

"Hmm … how do I put it? It sounds strange but observing the both of you was like watching my husband and I fight in the past." Noticing my baffled expression, the elderly lady hastened to clarify. "I don't mean that we threatened to punch the living daylights out of each other. But I mean that you two seem very well acquainted with each other – like you know how he's going to act and vice versa … it's hard to explain."

I went back to staring at the white teacup. "Well, you're not exactly wrong but I wouldn't say we were friends."

"Is there more to that then?"

Suddenly feeling helpless, I let out a deeper sigh. "It's complicated. I don't know where to start – I guess you could call us 'partners' once but even then we didn't like each other. We were constantly at each other's throats …"

I was speaking honestly. We _were_ always bickering. But for some reason, I also feel like I was lying. What was even more strange was – why do I care now?

I've always been a liar. To everyone around me, to myself.

I don't care for emotions, so I've always suppressed them and replaced them with counterfeit convenient feelings to deceive other people.

Now I'm wondering if in that process of deception, I've lost myself too. My true self.

And why is Chuuya making me feel this way?

Somehow, I think I know the answer but I really don't want to face it. Everything's just been sealed off for so long … I've gotten so good at squashing every tiny bit of feeling that reminded me of my own humanity.

I hear a distant bell tinkling and from the corner of my eye, I see the old lady leave to service more customers. Reaching out my right hand, I lightly touch the cold porcelain of the spotless white teacup Chuuya had just been drinking out of, moments ago.

 _Chuuya._ I thought. _Who were those tears for?_

* * *

 **Chuuya**

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I ran back to my apartment blindly. I furiously wiped away my tears before wrapping my arms around myself. I realised I had left my hat behind in that café but I couldn't care less about it at the moment.

I could barely hold a coherent thought. It was as if I had suddenly been rendered unable to think. All I was left, was raw emotion.

I fumbled with my keys at the front door, but for some reason, I wasn't able to get it open.

"DAMMIT!" I yelled, and punched the lock. The handle of the door broke on impact but at least I was now able to get in.

I entered and slammed the door behind me. On my way to the bedroom, I kicked the coffee table over. Hearing it crash onto the floor only made me feel a tinge better.

Finally, I got to my room and threw myself down on the bed, letting out a cry of frustration.

I didn't want to think, I didn't want to think but his face, his voice, it's ringing in my head. Turning to my side, I gripped my skull in frustration.

 _Why had he come to the café? Why just now, of all times?_

By now at least, the tears had run out. So I was shaking for another reason, I was shaking out of anger. How dare he! How dare he show his face around these parts?

Even though he didn't seem to show any malice, you can never trust Dazai Osamu.

I have never hated someone more than him in my life, but right now I can't help but hate myself equally as much, for displaying such weakness in front of him.

I hated how he could see right through me, how he could _always_ see right through me, no matter how hard I tried to mask my emotions.

And just then, they were definitely equivalent to being on full display for him to analyse.

I've never felt so vulnerable in my life.

Seeing Dazai after such a hellish week, hurt. It really did. My chest hurts and I'm frustrated now because I let him get under my skin like this.

All those years of building up walls and channelling my annoyance into a deep-seated hatred – none of that mattered anymore. I can't do this anymore.

As the adrenaline faded and exhaustion took over, I then started to wonder how long I had been laying here in the dark. I forced myself to get up from the bed and into the bathroom. I should take a bath. Maybe a nice, warm, long bath will help. I definitely can't go back to that café for more tea anymore, anyway.

So I went and started a warm bath and then slipped into the tub. Sinking into the water, I pulled my knees up to my chest. After all that earlier crying, confusion, anger and frustration, my body felt numb …

Save for one lingering emotion – loneliness.

* * *

 **Dazai**

"Are you ready to order now?" I hear the old lady ask, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"I don't think I'll have anything," I reply, remembering my mission. The logical part of my brain has already decided that Chuuya can wait. So I pushed all distracting thoughts out of head immediately. "Could you come with me? To that back room?" I nodded at that door behind the counter.

The elderly lady perfectly raised an eyebrow.

"I'm here to do my job," I said standing up and flashing my ID. "I'm a detective, you remember. So, I am here to investigate."

"Very well," she frowned and went to the door.

As I moved from my spot, my foot accidently stepped on something. Looking down, I saw the short-stack's hat. My thoughts became disoriented for a moment as I picked it up.

Evidently, the elderly lady noticed my frozen frame because she asked, "are you going to return that?"

"I don't think –"

"You really should," she interrupted. This time, I didn't bother to hide the annoyance that crossed my face. "It seems like both of you really need to have a talk."

I scoffed. "If we crossed paths again, we'd kill each other."

"I'll come with you," the elderly lady said without missing a beat.

I blinked at her in confusion. What did she say?

"I was thinking of giving the poor boy some chamomile tea. I have a box of teabags in the kitchen and he looked like he could use more."

My face darkened. I'm not going to let her distract me again. "Lady, I need you in the back room."

Once again, she demonstrated her perfect eyebrow raise. Her tone was cold as she said, "I'm not cooperating until you and I deliver that hat and tea, Mr Detective. You can try to coerce me and force me into that room all you want but I'm not going to answer any of your questions until we see that young man."

Ugh! So frustrating! I'm definitely demanding time off from work after this case.

"So do we have a deal?"

* * *

 **A/N:** You'll notice that I had begun this chapter in a Third Person narrative style. Now that they've met, I want to write the scenes they have together in a more distanced perspective, instead of taking a character's POV. So you'll start to see me switching between 1st and 3rd person now! Hope I've cleared up your confusion, if any!


	8. Taking shape

With every step closer to a certain short-stack's apartment, Dazai's irritation increased. However, he couldn't tell for the first time why. Was it because he had always hated Chuuya? Was it because somewhere hidden in the recesses of his mind, he knew he had wronged him? Or was it because this was all the old lady's plan and he had been forced into this?

Speaking of which, would she just stop humming so cheerfully as she trailed after him?

Finally, they arrived at his … broken door. He heard the old lady gasp beside him.

"Don't worry," he said dryly, after calmly assessing the broken lock and handle, as well as the fist-sized dent left on the broken wood. "He's just got anger issues, remember?"

When they entered the house, it was dark. But Dazai could just about make out an overturned table and made sure to sidestep it. Fortunately, the glass didn't seem to be broken since the floor was carpeted.

"Shouldn't we have knocked or rung the doorbell?" The old lady asked softly as they went round the furniture.

"In his current state, he wouldn't answer. And if he did come to the door, it would be to kick us out of this very building," Dazai replied.

He then pointed to a faint light coming from the bedroom. "That's where he is. You can go in first. He'd probably burst a vein if I walked in."

Dazai watched as the old lady knocked on the door before walking in. He paused where he was and looked around the place.

 _Sure brings back some memories._

"AAHHH!"

Two simultaneous screams suddenly jolted Dazai into action. He rushed into the bedroom to find the old lady at the door to Chuuya's bathroom and Chuuya himself, with a pocket knife at the old lady's throat.

"Oh!" Dazai exclaimed, "I'm sorry, I forgot to mention he has got violent tendencies as well."

Cursing at the sound of Dazai's voice, Chuuya threw the pocket knife to the ground. "Get out. GET OUT BEFORE I KICK YOU BOTH OUT!"

Normally, Dazai would have just dragged the old lady out with him right now since he never wished to be anywhere near Chuuya in the first place. But right now, it was kind of hard to take him seriously when the man was fully naked, save for a white towel around his waist … So Dazai just stared, slightly amused.

"Young man," started the old lady. "I don't mean any harm, I just wanted to give you this." She lifted the box of chamomile teabags from the paper bag she was holding.

Chuuya stared at it. Seriously? Why can't people just leave him alone? What did he do to deserve this?

"I don't want it," he stated flatly. "Please just go."

"I think you could use some," the old lady pressed. "My daughter would drink it too, when she felt worked up –"

"I'm not your fucking daughter!" Chuuya yelled. He was so angry he could feel a fresh wave of tears forming behind his eyes. "Don't treat me like her just because she's gone! I hate you and I certainly DON'T appreciate you coming here with that waste of bandages!"

Dazai lifted a bandaged hand to his chin, thinking. Maybe coming here wasn't such a bad idea after all. He was able to annoy Chuuya, and confirm the information he wanted to confirm all along! Who knew Chuuya, of all people, had the information he wanted on this old lady?

The old lady actually looked slightly hurt. "I'm not treating you like Kano."

"Well," Chuuya pointed to the door, "then leave. Your Kano and I have something in common now and that's the fact that we both resent you."

"Sheesh. That's harsh, Chuuya," Dazai finally spoke up.

At once, the redhead's rage bubbled to the surface. "Why did you come here? Why did you bring her here? You have some nerve, bandages!"

Dazai held up the hat he was holding in his hands. "Want this back?"

"Not after you've contaminated it with your germs! Get the fuck out of my house! You too, old lady!"

"Now, don't be so rude," Dazai narrowed his eyes. "Her husband was killed you know, by the Port Mafia."

A tense moment of silence passed. Chuuya locked eyes with Dazai, both men's expressions unreadable.

"I'm going to go make some tea," said the old lady, clearing her throat as she made her way out of the bedroom.

"HEY!" Chuuya yelled after her and made to follow. "Don't just make yourself at home here!"

Dazai let out a low chuckle as he grabbed onto Chuuya's arm to stop him. "I think you," he started, and let his eyes fall from Chuuya's to trail down his body, "should put on some clothes first."

"Bastard," Chuuya yanked his arm from Dazai's grasp.

Dazai let his eyes follow the redhead to the bathroom before making his own way out to the living room. Finally, he let his thoughts off the reins and run free through his mind. All sorts of questions and hunches and theories occupied his head at once.

Meanwhile, once Chuuya re-entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. Though his thoughts remain muddled and anger pulsated through his body, for some inexplicable reason …

The loneliness had gone away.

* * *

Dazai decided to follow the old lady to the kitchen. He still had some questions unanswered, thanks to Chuuya's new revelation about this Kano girl earlier.

"Hey, Onuki-san, right?" Dazai said, watching her prepare tea in Chuuya's kitchen.

She turned her head and a look of surprise crossed her face for just a second. "Oh right, you have information on me, don't you?"

"Just some," said Dazai smiling. "And you'll be so kind to supplement the rest, won't you? After all, we did come all the way here."

The elderly lady sighed, stirring the contents of a porcelain teapot. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know about this Kano you mentioned earlier. She's your daughter, isn't she? Why did that chibi say she hated you?"

The elderly lady stooped down to search the cabinets, looking for something.

Slightly irritated by her distraction and lack of an immediate answer, Dazai crossed his arms. "If you're looking for a tray, that's in the shelf above you."

"Ah!" She exclaimed as she reached for the tray she was looking for. The elderly lady carefully placed the teapot and three matching porcelain cups on the silver tray before heading out to the living room.

Dazai trailed after her, expectant. "Well?"

"Hmm?" The elderly lady hummed, laying down the tray on a leather couch, seeing as the marble coffee table was still overturned.

"Why does Kano resent you?" Dazai repeated.

"Didn't you say she blames you for your husband's death?" Chuuya said as he suddenly emerged from the bedroom, a towel over his neck.

Dazai noted the oversized shirt and sweatpants. "Still dressing like a girl at night, aren't you?"

Chuuya threw his towel at Dazai's face. "If you're just here to mock me, tell me so that I can invite you out my house myself!"

"Stop it! Both of you!" The elderly lady held up her hand. "Calm down and have some tea!"

For a second, no one moved. Then Dazai took the towel of his face and sauntered casually over to another long couch, occupying the centre seat.

Chuuya's glare never left Dazai's face but he too, sat himself down on a matching armchair.

Happy with this arrangement, the elderly lady started to pour tea for the three of them.

"So …." Dazai started, "Kano-san blames your you for your husband's death?"

With a sigh, the old lady nodded her head.

"Why?" Dazai pressed. Despite the awkward situation seeing that Chuuya was in the room, he didn't want to risk leaving now and then starting over from square one again. He was too close to the information to let it slip from his grasp.

"You see I … I loved my husband a lot," the old lady started, handing some tea over to Chuuya. "And he loved me too," she continued, turning to Dazai, "but we also fought a lot – we were just both really hardheaded people."

Dazai took a teacup from her before sitting back down, waiting for her to elaborate. His patience was rewarded.

"It was just one of those nights. We were arguing over the phone," the elderly lady said, now pouring herself some tea. "I don't even remember what it was about. But Kano-chan was still awake then, and she heard us. She also heard me tell her father not to come home. Of course I said that in a fit of anger but … he took it to heart, and stayed at the police office, working overtime."

Chuuya suddenly spoke up. "Wait, when was all this?"

"Oh! Pretending to be the detective now –" Dazai would have continued if it weren't for the death glare the old lady gave him, herself.

"Six – no, seven years ago?" The elderly lady continued, trying to recall. "That office was gunned down seven years ago, I think."

Chuuya's eyes widened. "I think I know what you're talking about!"

"Of course you do," Dazai quipped.

"Well, it was a pretty huge incident," the elderly lady nodded, seemingly oblivious to the exchange. "And that's how Kano-chan grew up to hate both me and the Port Mafia. She was always closer to her father …"

Dazai grinned. This was perfect. The puzzle was solving itself in his mind. He just needed to confirm one last thing … this time, with the hat-rack himself.

"Also, young man," the old lady suddenly said, turning to Chuuya. "This apartment – it's quite big isn't it? And well-furnished too," she remarked, her eyes scanning the antique vases, floor-to-ceiling windows and various drapery. "Are you sure you're an office worker?"

Chuuya choked on his tea as Dazai laughed. "That's what you told her, chibi?"

Just then, Chuuya's phone rang and he couldn't have been more glad. "Excuse me," he said, scrambling to pick it up.

"Nakahara-san," said Okamoto's voice over the line. "I'm sorry to bother you when you've already signed off."

"What's wrong?" Chuuya asked, turning his head away from the other people in the room.

"Both you and I have been summoned," she continued, a little hesitatingly, "to Boss's office."

Chuuya stood up, surprised. "Now?"

"Yes, right now," Okamoto affirmed. "Please do come quick. Other than that, no other details were given."

"Understood, I'm on my way," Chuuya replied before hanging up. Worry furrowed his brows. Impromptu calls to the office after one's signed off for the night don't usually mean a good thing. If it was something that could wait, Mori would have called him in the next day.

Dazai narrowed his eyes. "Who was that? You don't speak that way to Kouyou Ane-san."

Chuuya sneered back before dashing into his room. "Wouldn't you like to know!"

In a mere few minutes, Chuuya emerged, now clad in his normal work attire. Dazai stood up to follow him to the door.

"Looks urgent," he remarked.

"Yeah well," Chuuya struggled with his shoes a little. "Boss wants me in the office fast, no other details were – hey! Stop trying to get info out of me!"

The redhead straightened up and made to unlock his door but realized he had broken the lock earlier.

Dazai chuckled. "Well, have fun with Mori-san and your … new personal assistant."

"She's not my personal assistant," said Chuuya coolly as he stepped outside. He felt a sudden rush of pride. "She's a new subordinate under me, and she's actually capable, unlike you. Now get out of my house before you stink up the whole place!"

And with that, Chuuya promptly left.

"What was that all about?" The elderly lady came up to Dazai, looking confused.

Dazai narrowed his eyes, his mind concentrating on fitting the new puzzle pieces in with the rest. "Hmm … I think I'm starting to get the full picture now."

* * *

 **Chuuya**

Many thoughts were racing through my head as I physically raced to the office building. I had thought about hailing a cab but in such a quiet district at 1am, that might take longer than running there myself.

Thankfully, I was nimble and swift enough on foot to reach there in record time.

As I went up the elevators, I caught my breath and found time to go over those racing thoughts. I was slightly troubled how I had left both Dazai and the old lady at my place … I should have made them go home before I went off. But it was too late to do anything about that now.

I was also trying to figure out what exactly was Dazai's game … Sure, going into that café could have been a coincidence (though I highly doubt so because we both make the effort to stay as far away as possible from each other's apartments) but what about coming to my place? Returning my hat was a shitty excuse. Guiding the old lady to my house to deliver some tea was an even shittier excuse. The Dazai I knew … the Dazai I knew wouldn't have bothered. So the fact that he did meant …

He was after something.

A chill ran down my spine. I hate not knowing what exactly he is pursuing. But I forced myself to re-run through what had just conspired at my place anyway. Dazai and the old lady arrived, and refused to leave. Then when I joined them in my living room, we started discussing the old lady's husband, and her daughter too … Could he have started and guided that conversation on purpose? Was he trying to find out something about the old lady? But why? Isn't she just an ordinary café owner?

And am I somehow involved in all this?

I started to perspire in spite of the night's chill. Maybe I was … I mean, I was there, wasn't I? Seven years ago … in that police office with Ane-san …

"To learn how things worked in the Port Mafia," I completed my thought with a whisper, recalling what I said to Akutagawa.

Then, the elevator doors dinged open and I remembered myself. Troubling as it may be, now's not the time to be concerned with Dazai or the past. I stepped into the hallway and squinted; I could see Okamoto already waiting outside the heavy double doors.

"Okamoto-kun," I called, running up to her.

"Nakahara-san," she politely bowed. "You came really fast."

I scratched my head, "Sorry to make you wait. Though, couldn't you have gone in yourself first?"

She shook her head, glancing at the guards. "They told me that Boss wanted us both in at the same time."

The guards bowed in greeting as I looked over at them too.

"You may enter now," one of them said as they pushed open the double doors.

I looked at Okamoto but she was staring ahead. I wondered if she felt nervous. This was her first time being called to meet with the Head of the Port Mafia, after all.

She seemed to have felt my gaze because she turned her head to look at me.

"Well. Ready when you are," she said, a serene smile spreading across her face.

* * *

 **A/N:** The last puzzle piece obtained! And the plot thickens ... ;) (Also if someone drew Chuuya brandishing a knife while in nothing but a white fluffy towel, I would be so happy, please)


	9. Conspiracy

**Chuuya**

We both stepped into the dimly lit room together. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness as I found Mori behind his desk, illuminated by warm lamp. He put a finger to his lips as he saw us, glancing to the side. Following his eyes, I found Elise on a nearby couch, sleeping soundly.

I took off my hat and bowed respectfully in greeting while Okamoto knelt, then stood up again.

"Welcome to my office, Okamoto-kun," Mori smiled. "I do believe this is your first time here."

"Yes," came the short reply.

"Well you needn't be so formal," Mori clasped his hands together before looking at me. "Chuuya-kun, tell her to loosen up!"

I quickly cast her a sideway glance and shifted uncomfortably. "Relax?"

Mori seemed to find this amusing and let out a chuckle. Internally, I sighed. There are too many aspects of Mori that are exactly like Dazai.

"Anyway, thank you for coming here on such a short notice," Mori cleared his throat and started. "I'm sure you're curious to know why you've been summoned. So I'll just cut to the chase. Orkland Private Limited has been attacked."

I sucked in my breath. "That weapons-manufacturing company you've been investing in? How?"

"Well, just a few hours ago, the men that have been watching over Goldwire Factory called in to say it's been bombed."

"So all our investments …"

"That's why we're taking action," Mori leaned forward, a smile still plastered on his face. "You don't think I haven't prepared for something like this, do you?"

I looked away in silence and discomfort.

Luckily, Mori continued quickly. "It so happens that I've information about a certain criminal organisation that's come back to take revenge on us of late," said Mori, tilting his head slightly. "You'd remember, Chuuya-kun. Does the name 'Blood Raid' sound familiar?"

I crossed my arms. "Oh, that stinking group of thugs from Kawasaki." Then, noticing Okamoto who had stiffened beside me, I explained, "Blood Raid's a criminal organisation from Kawasaki that the Port Mafia's destroyed once long ago."

"But they're back, it seems!" Mori inserted casually. "And you two are tasked to find them and take them out, once and for all."

"Wait, just me and … Okamoto-kun?" My arms fell from my chest.

"Yes. After all, you've done it once as a pair with –"

"But this is different!" I interjected. "You're … you're not even going to give us backup?"

Mori hummed disapprovingly. "You know I don't like sending precious manpower to their deaths if I can help it. And besides, aren't you the one always going on about Okamoto-kun's talents?"

I glanced at Okamoto again, slightly embarrassed. She blinked right back at me, unfazed. "Well … I …"

"I'd be honoured to take on this mission," Okamoto said, turning her head back to face Mori.

"Ah good! So it's decided then!" Mori clapped his hands happily. "Here are your mission details: Eliminate Blood Raid completely and … destroy anyone who opposes you."

I didn't miss the targeted look he gave me, even though I'm confused why.

Beside me, Okamoto saluted while I grudgingly bowed. "If that's your order …"

Just then, Mori's phone rang and a look of surprise crossed his face, as did mine. Only a rare few people in this world have Mori's number. Who could be calling?

On the couch, Elise started to stir and Mori tried his best to clamp his hand down on the phone. "Both of you can go now, it looks like I should answer this."

Still wondering who that could be, I left the office with Okamoto. I let out an impatient sigh as we waited for the escalator to reach the ground floor. Today had been a long day and I can't believe I'm not at home resting yet.

I just want to get this over and done with by sunrise.

* * *

 **Dazai**

I escorted the elderly lady back to her café after the _Petit Mafia_ left. I am, after all, a total gentleman.

"I hope you got the answers you were searching for," the elderly lady said as she unlocked the doors to the building.

"Most of it," I replied honestly. "And I hope you don't lose any customers after tonight," I continued, less honestly, and recalled how she rushed the customers out of the café and closed up, to just to force me to visit that hat-rack.

Even though I did get what I wanted in the end, it was still such an irritating experience.

"Will you be going home now?" The elderly lady suddenly asked, her body already halfway behind the door.

I contemplated my answer. "Hmm … after I tie up some loose ends first."

"I can't tell if you're overthinking because you like doing that, or if it's your job to do so."

I smiled at her, "Both, I suppose."

"Well," she continued, "it suits you, I guess. Your detective job."

I raised an eyebrow of my own, a little surprised. She was after all, the first one to say that. "Goodnight, Onuki-san."

"Goodnight then, young man," she nodded at me before disappearing into the darkness of the building.

I paced outside the building for a while, pondering my next course action. Once decided, I hurried over to the nearest payphone. Though I was sure this was the best move to make in such a situation, I couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of anxiousness, dialling a certain number I know all too well.

I waited patiently for the line to pick up … but it didn't seem like the person was going to answer. Did I time it wrongly? Or perhaps the person I was calling was ignoring the call on purpose …?

After what seemed like forever, I finally heard the crackle of a familiar voice over the line. "May I know who is calling?"

"It's me," I stated plainly.

Immediately, the tone of the voice lightened, "Dazai-kun! Oh my! How nice of you to call!"

"Mori-san," I continued, not caring to observe much pleasantries. "Where is Chuuya … and his new subordinate?"

I could hear the grin in the Mafia Boss's reply. "Ah, well, I just sent them on a mission! It's certainly unlike you to care … unless you are investigating something?"

"Where did you send them to?"

A low chuckle bubbled from the line. "Seems like it's urgent."

"Mori-san," I said, my tone hardening, "you're putting Chuuya in danger."

"And you don't think he can handle himself? I put Chuuya-kun in danger every day."

"This is different!" I insisted, fighting to keep the urgency in my voice down. "Chuuya's too dumb to suspect anything about that new subordinate!"

Mori laughed again. "I see. So we are _both_ investigating the same thing. How … predictable."

I swallowed, my mind furiously working to keep up with the Mafia Boss. Then, it came to me suddenly.

If we were both investigating the same thing … that means Mori is too, investigating that new subordinate. And if he knew what I already knew about a certain criminal organisation (which is very likely), then he also knows there is one sure-fire way to test someone's loyalty.

"Thank you, Mori-san," I smiled into the phone. "Always knew you cared."

Even over the line, I could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'll be counting on you to bring Chuuya-kun back, safely."

Then, there was a click and the line went silent.

* * *

 **Chuuya**

I leaned back into the black leather seats of the car speeding us away to Kawasaki. This wasn't the first time I had gone on a mission with Okamoto … but it was the first time I had gone on a mission with her _alone._

Usually, she would be a bit more chatty – in the productive way of course. From what I've noticed so far, Okamoto's always prepared, and always had a detailed plan outlined. But tonight, she was strangely silent. She was sitting at the far end of the backseat, and was either looking out of the window or tapping on her phone quietly.

"Are you okay?" I asked finally, turning my head to the side to look at her.

Evidently, Okamoto had not expected me to say anything because she jumped a little, startled by my question. She looked up from her phone. "Yes, thank you. I'm just trying to come up with a plan for this."

"Oh, right. This would be your first time sent out on an impromptu mission like this."

Okamoto nodded. "But it's okay. I think I've more or less worked it out. Kawasaki's full of alleyways, right? If you walk in front of me, it would be easy for you to take out people as they come at us through the narrow alleyways. I'll stay behind so I can watch the back."

Silence fell again. It wasn't a bad plan. I didn't think I'd do it any other way. I'm quiet because I'm just not sure how to express the current emotions I was feeling at the moment.

After a minute of struggling, I spoke up, hesitatingly. "Hey, Okamoto-kun."

"Yes?"

"Thanks for being such a capable … partner."

Beside me, she laughed unexpectedly. I looked up at her in surprise.

"I'm honoured but … I'm no partner," she smiled.

I furrowed my brows. "Rank doesn't really matter to me –"

"Oh look," she suddenly pointed. "We're here."

And sure enough, the car slowed to a stop at a quiet street, a while away from the heart of Kawasaki.

"Ah … oh. Thanks," I said to our chauffeur before getting out.

As I surveyed our surroundings, Okamoto checked our location against a map on her phone. Then, once we've got our bearings, we set off to the underbelly of Kawasaki.

I walked down vaguely familiar alleyways and suppressed my slight discomfort. The last time I was here, I came with a certain person whom I thought was going to be my lifelong partner. Now, 4 years later, I find myself in the same place with the same purpose … but this time, with someone new.

"Ahem, Nakahara-san," Okamoto cleared her throat softly behind me. "We're being tailed."

I paused in the middle of my tracks and turned around warily, ready to take on the enemy.

Okamato immediately lifted her gun, just as our stalker lifted his.

"Step away from her, Chuuya," said an annoyingly familiar voice, with one dark-coloured eye glinting dangerously in the moonlight.

* * *

Chuuya could scarcely believe his eyes. First he shows up at the café, then he makes a house visit and brings another uninvited guest, and now he appears at his mission location? What the hell does Dazai want? Was he here to mess with him? Why is he putting in so much effort into making his life a living hell nowadays?

"Oi," Dazai smirked (and immediately Chuuya felt like punching it off right there and then), "maybe your hearing's lacking like your height so I'll repeat myself. Step away from her, Short-stack. She's not who you think she is."

Chuuya's face flushed with anger. "HAH?! What are you talking about? Okamoto-kun's my mission part –"

"She's not your partner!" Dazai suddenly yelled in frustration, stopping Chuuya in his tracks. "She has never been and will never be your partner!"

The redhead could only stare. The smirk was gone, replaced by a bowed head and darkened expression. Dazai seemed … mad. But wait, how did that happen? Chuuya knew of course, that Dazai like any other human, was capable of feeling emotion, but he rarely lets it show. For the most part of his life, Chuuya has learned to deal with his fake smiles and smug grins used to mask how he really felt. Heck, Dazai was so good at crushing his own feelings that he probably fools himself.

However, now he's letting what seemed like genuine anger show on the surface and Chuuya just did _not_ know how to deal.

Chuuya swallowed thickly. "Dazai," he began.

But just then, three dark figures jumped down from above. They hit Dazai to the ground, and as he groaned, pinned him down and kicked the pistol from his hand.

"DAZAI!" Chuuya started forward but immediately felt the press of cold steel on his forehead.

"He's right you know," Okamoto said coolly, her index finger stroking the trigger. "You should have listened earlier, when you had the chance."

Chuuya's eyes widened in shock, in utter disbelief. How was this happening?

But in a mere few seconds, that disbelief quickly turned into rage, taking over his entire body as he trembled with anger. "How could you?" He spat out.

"She was never on your side in the first place," one of the guys holding Dazai down laughed.

"Araki," said another man, smirking. "Don't tease him now."

Dazai strained his eyes to focus on Chuuya. It had been about half a minute since he pulled the trigger on his gun before it was kicked out of his hand. Chuuya had to stop his agitation somehow or at this rate, they won't make it out alive. And judging by Chuuya's quickened breathing, he had to act now.

"Chuuya," he croaked. "Lights out …"

Instantly, he felt a sharp blade pressing on his left arm. "Keep your damn mouth shut if ya don't want to lose your arm like how you took mine," growled the third, and the heaviest man sitting on him.

A few metres away, Chuuya grit his teeth. What was Dazai trying to say? Lights out? What's that supposed to mean? _Dammit Dazai,_ he thought, clenching his fists. _I should just crush everyone here now like how I did it the last time!_

And then, that memory came to mind. He recalled it in a flash as if it were like yesterday.

" _This place stinks," said Dazai, holding his nose. "Can we just set fire to the place?"_

" _Follow the plan, you idiot!"_

" _Alright, alright," came the reply. Then, Dazai took a spherical object from his coat and lifted the lock before rolling it to the ground._

" _Lights out," said Chuuya as he watched it roll into the darkness ahead._

Realisation hit Chuuya like a bullet train now, followed by the instinctive urge to cover his nose and mouth. How did Dazai … was it his gun? Did he fill it with gas instead of bullets? Chuuya willed himself to resist looking at it and instead, concentrated on holding his breath and his angry expression, lest any of them realised what was going on.

"Okay, let's take these two away to the boss. Then he can decide how he wants to make the Port Mafia pay," said the man who was currently holding a knife to Dazai's arm.

"Yes, Hamada-san," the other two replied while Chuuya's captor nodded.

As the three holding Dazai down, now attempted to tie his wrists together, Okamoto instructed Chuuya to turn around slowly.

And so he did. But just as he was about to start walking as instructed, the sound of a body falling to the ground behind alerted the both of them.

"What the –" Okamoto frowned as the other two started to sway before hitting the ground. Then, she started to notice that her vision was getting hazy …

"You …" She began, straining to keep her gun level. But Chuuya now, feeling both impatient and furious, punched a pressure point on her neck swiftly, causing her to lose consciousness too.

Then Chuuya dashed forward to pick up the brunette detective and swiftly hopped up onto a building top.

He coughed as he put Dazai down. Chuuya had breathed in some of the gas, but he was fortunate enough that Dazai was able to signal him in time.

"Oh, you're still alive," Dazai remarked, straightening himself up. "Looks like your memory didn't go with your hearing loss."

"Who exactly is she, shitty Dazai?" Chuuya demanded furiously, grabbing Dazai by the collar.

"Sure, shoot the messenger. After he just saved your ass, too," Dazai's smirk was back. However, noticing their surroundings, his eyes narrowed. "So how about you repay me by destroying this stinking place?"

Chuuya let go of Dazai, facing the ring of men that had formed a circle around them on other building tops, all their guns pointed at them.

"Ah," he said in a low voice, fists shaking with anger, "it would be my pleasure."

* * *

 **A/N:** The storm's in full swing now! Also it may not seem like it, but the scene with Mori and Dazai was incredibly hard to write. You have no idea how many times I've rewritten and revised it. It was so nightmarish because the two of them are so terrifyingly similar. It was genuinely hard to keep up with their thoughts, haha. Hope it wasn't awkward or strange for you to read!


	10. Apology

Dazai let out a low whistle, surveying the wreckage all around him. "Don't you think you went a little overboard?"

"Hah?" Chuuya breathed heavily, collecting himself. " _You_ strategised every action!"

The two stood atop a pile of rubble. The debris consisted of mostly cement and people. The buildings around them have been destroyed; their metal skeletons glinting in the sun's first rays of the morning. For about a 50 metre radius around them, everything had been decimated and reduced to ruins.

Chuuya huffed as he walked across the rubble, searching. Finally, he came upon her. The mangled body of whom he had thought to be Okamoto Kanoko.

Dazai joined his side. Immediately, he took out his phone to snap a photo of her.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Chuuya demanded.

"Why, I've taken on an Agency case to find this girl! I need to document her death …" Dazai blinked at the redhead's bewildered expression. "Oh, you mean I never mentioned that?"

Chuuya made a swipe at Dazai's head, but the taller man ducked as he kneeled down to pick up the body.

"Tell me what is going on, you asshole!"

Dazai sighed, carrying the body as he started walking off in a direction. "You're so noisy this early in the morning …"

The two headed off, away from the scene of their crime and before the police could arrive. Dazai was lost in thought and remained silent. With this, he can say the case has been completely resolved. The girl has been found – it didn't matter if she was dead or alive, and all he had to do after this was write a report detailing her involvement with Blood Raid and her death after fighting with the Port Mafia.

Except that … he hasn't addressed the one thing lingering in his mind the whole time –this whole … _thing_ with Chuuya. The past few weeks had been forcing him to constantly recall his days in the Mafia with the redhead. And it had all culminated to this moment. Dazai had taken the initiative to call up Mori and save Chuuya … even though he knew Chuuya could have probably come out of this alive without his aid. Albeit, even more confused and possibly injured. But Dazai chose to come along with his own plans because he wanted to solve the case, and also because, if he were to be honest with himself, of something else …

"Oi, you shitty waste of bandages!" Chuuya called impatiently. "Are you going to talk?"

Dazai laughed, his prior thoughts dissipating. "Fine, since I pity your stupidity. The reality is … this girl is from Blood Raid."

"I KNOW THAT NOW!"

"But what you didn't know is that this girl also went missing months ago here in Kawasaki. Turns out she disappeared to join Blood Raid … so she can seek revenge on the Port Mafia."

Chuuya frowned. "Why?"

"Even after all this you _still_ can't put it together?"

"Dazai," said Chuuya in a warning tone, fists clenched.

The brunette smirked again. "Her dear father was shot and killed by the Port Mafia, seven years ago."

Chuuya paused, frozen in his tracks. His mind was whirring, putting it all together. So that conversation in his living room … with that old woman. This "Okamoto Kanoko" was the café owner's daughter? The same girl who overheard her mother tell her father to not come home and later blamed him for his death? The same girl who moved away to another city for work and cut off ties with her mother?

"Yes, that's right," Dazai spoke up, reading Chuuya's thoughts. "Can you hurry up? The car's right there."

Chuuya ran up to the detective and stared at the black sedan in front of him in surprise. "Where the hell did you get that?"

"I hot-wired it, duh." Dazai rolled his eyes. "Not everyone likes to blow a fortune on a car when you can just steal one, you know?"

"What's wrong with you?" Chuuya asked, watching Dazai put the girl across the backseat.

"Hmm?" Dazai closed the door then made his way to sit at the driver's seat. "Why are you so shocked? You're always the first to say I never fitted in with the Agency people."

Chuuya got into the front seat, next to Dazai. "No, I mean, your insults are lamer than usual. What's wrong with you?"

Dazai started the car, choosing to keep quiet for the moment. _Yeah, what's wrong with him?_

For a while, the two sat in silence as they set off towards Yokohama. Chuuya was pointedly looking out of the window as if the most interesting sights were whizzing by. But he was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. It was just not like chatterbox Dazai to simply … shut up. What the hell was going on?

"Umm," started Chuuya awkwardly. "So this girl's name …"

"She was born as Onuki Kano," Dazai explained simply. "A government official who was also secretly working for Blood Raid helped her alter her identity and documents."

Chuuya sighed deeply. "I don't know how I'm going to explain all this to Boss."

"I think he already knows. When I called, he told me he was investigating the same thing – her."

"Wait, you were the one who called?" Chuuya sat up, incredulous. "You have some nerve."

Then, silence fell between them again. Chuuya can't help but feel exasperated at Dazai.

"Come on, talk to me!" He burst out involuntarily.

"Chuuya," Dazai started, his eyes still glued to the road, "why were you crying yesterday?"

Taken aback, Chuuya knitted his brows. Crying? When? He was so surprised he actually voiced his confusion aloud.

"Last night, in that café. When I walked in, you were … crying."

The memories of that fateful night suddenly bombarded Chuuya's mind. He remembered running in already tearing up. He felt thankful the old lady didn't ask any questions and just gave him a cup of warm tea. He remembered remembering memories of the past … of a certain someone. The anger he felt towards him, the pain of harbouring even more hate to hide other unwanted feelings towards him, and the bitter taste of failure as he fell depressed, at his betrayal. He rememberd how he felt so utterly hopeless at his chances of mending the relationship with that someone. And finally, he remembered the cathartic release that came with crying his eyeballs out.

Chuuya looked out into the window. "I wasn't crying."

The car suddenly violently swerved, knocking Chuuya into Dazai's lap (because _dammit_ he forgot his seatbelt) and came to a forced stop at the side of the road.

"What the heck – are you trying to kill us?!" Chuuya yelled, scrambling to get a hold of himself.

"I'm not moving until you tell me why you were crying." Dazai's eyes flashed as he looked down at the redhead.

Chuuya pushed himself up from Dazai's lap, feeling very disorientated but also ten times more self-conscious (if it were possible to feel disorientated and still be super conscious at the same time). "We're in the middle of a _HIGHWAY!_ "

Several cars behind beeped and honked angrily as they went past; many drivers shooting dirty looks and flipping them off. However, Dazai honestly couldn't care less. He wasn't even sure why he wanted answers but he does and he wanted them now.

"Not moving~" he sang half-heartedly.

"Dammit shitty Dazai," Chuuya glared. "Why do _you_ care?"

"I don't," he replied without hesitation. "I'm just curious."

Chuuya crossed his arms. "That sounded rehearsed as fuck. Did you say that to the old lady afterwards, when she asked?"

Dazai involuntarily reached out to grab Chuuya's cheeks with his left hand then, forcing his blue eyes on brown. Though Dazai's face showed no emotion, he felt like he was internally imploding. This was a first too. Involuntary actions. Usually every move he made was calculated for but what is logic when you are in the middle of a highway with a stolen car and dead body, right? Something was coursing through his veins and it was making him act weird and his pulse accelerate.

Chuuya's eyes reflected surprise back at him. The very same beautiful blue eyes filled with melancholy and pain just last night.

And now at this moment, the blue eyes were slowly becoming clouded by confusion and anger and …

"I hate you, you know," Chuuya finally said in a quiet voice. "I really do."

"Oh?" Dazai replied, equally as soft.

"I've hated you since the day I met you."

"As did I."

"You've been the bane of my life for as long as I could remember."

"I can say the same about you."

"And when you left, my hatred for you only increased."

"Yes, you have become more annoying."

Chuuya closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. "But I only hated you more because I hated myself for missing you."

A silent beat passed. Transfixed right now, Dazai couldn't help but be marveled by the bright blue irises, filled with genuine hurt and genuine pain. He marveled how they were sparkling with just the slightest hint of trepidation as well as frustration at his own person. He marveled at how his heart could ache so much hearing that.

"Will you let go of me now?" Chuuya lowered his eyes, unable to continue staring into Dazai's.

Then, Dazai released him – only to move his hand to Chuuya's shoulder. Without thinking for once, he just pulled the other man closer.

His mouth came up to Chuuya's ear and he whispered sincerely, "I'm sorry."

* * *

 **Chuuya**

I stared after the car that had dropped me off in front of Headquarters. There were many thoughts scrambling to occupy the space at the front of my mind but now's just not the time to entertain those thoughts.

I practically marched into his office. Not caring an iota about my disheveled looks or how I had almost kicked down the doors as the guards outside frantically rushed to open them.

"Oh Chuuya-kun, you're back in one piece! How nice!" came a chirpy voice from the end of the room.

The Boss was standing up from his seat for once, leaning against his expensive mahogany table.

"Where's Okamoto-kun?"

I stopped a few metres away from him. "She's dead."

Mori's eyes glinted in the morning sun. "Oh? What happened?"

"She betrayed us and with Blood Raid, tried to threaten me. So I killed all of them, as you had requested."

Mori smiled. "You've done your job well."

"Indeed," I agreed, never missing a beat. "You put her under me so that you could feed her hand-picked information about the Mafia, didn't you? And because I had no idea what was going on, _Onuki Kano_ wasn't able to detect that she was playing right into your hands."

The Mafia boss's smiled widened. "Guilty as charged."

"So tell me now," I pressed. "When did you know?"

Mori chuckled. "Oh, I was suspicious from the start. So I pretended to invest in a certain state-of-the-art weapons manufacturing company. I ensured that the both of you were handling sensitive information like the company's address –"

"And when the building blew up …" I completed Mori's sentence slowly. That all made sense now … all of Mori's crazy schemes to pour as much money as he can into the weapons company – so that it eventually became a seemingly large enough target for Blood Raid to act on to further their plans to destroy the Port Mafia.

"It looks like Dazai-kun has managed to prime your thinking well," said Mori, cutting into my thoughts.

My breathing quickened at the mention of that offending name. "Dazai – that was you. That was your plan too!"

"Actually no," Mori assured me quickly. "Dazai-kun was truthfully an unexpected development. There was no way I could have calculated the slightest possibility of receiving a call from him."

I frowned. Mori's words weren't quite getting through to me. You mean, he really didn't predict Dazai would do this? The implications of this were quite … scary. So then, what Dazai had done must have been completely … out of his character and mind? My mind scrambled to understand why. I couldn't tell if it was because of some clever scheme Dazai himself had devised to take Mori and I by surprise or if it was because of something else …

"I'm so worried about Dazai-kun," Mori sighed. "I wonder if something happened to him of late?"

I turned away from Mori's piercing gaze. "I, I wouldn't know, Boss."

After an uncomfortable pause, Mori finally spoke again. "Well, you've done well, Chuuya-kun. And it seems you have a lot of thoughts to sort out. Go back and have a good rest. We'll have a meeting later when work starts."

Not needing to be told twice, I bowed and then quickly exited.

As I sluggishly made my way back home, I finally allowed the torrent of thoughts I had been holding back, attack my brain.

I flashbacked to Dazai finding me in Kawasaki, his complete change in expression, the genuine quiet anger he exuded, Onuki Kano's deception and our cooperation in the complete eradication of Blood Raid.

But the most vivid and clear of which were the memories of what had transpired in the car earlier …

Dazai's behaviour had been weird since the aftermath of the utter destruction of Blood Raid 2. I mean, my thoughts were all over the place as well but I never expected Dazai to completely lose his head … as evident in what he did in the car.

I reached home (and made a mental note to fix that lock) and went to lie down on my bed immediately. But despite my exhaustion, my raging thoughts kept me from sleep.

Why the hell did he ask about my crying?

And why did I tell him …

I bit my lip. Why do I let him affect me this way? Every time I see him, let alone work with him after his betrayal (and this is the third time already!) … it makes it so much harder to let go.

With a pain in my heart, I had to agree with my earlier self in the car, when I admitted that I missed him.

Surprisingly, that wasn't the hardest confession I had ever made. Maybe it was the toffee eyes, or his intense gaze, or the adrenaline and emotions from the revival of Double Black for the third time …

Or maybe it was because I was tired of hating him when all I really wanted, was to miss him.

And with that final thought, sleep finally welcomed me into its arms.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope everyone enjoyed their weekend!


	11. Human

**Dazai**

When I woke up, I couldn't orient myself. It was dark, I was on the couch and am wearing my work clothes.

But then my heart squeezed and I suddenly remembered everything all at once.

When we finally reached Yokohama, I dropped Chuuya off, then drove to the Armed Detective Agency where I delivered Onuki Kano's body to the office – much to everyone's shock.

"This is Onuki Kano," I had stated duly. "She was found dead in Kawasaki after battling with the Port Mafia."

"What?" Kunikida looked up from his inspection of the body.

"Turns out she was involved in Blood Raid just as the Kawasaki police have suspected," I continued to report. "She joined to take revenge on the Port Mafia. And that was also the cause of her death. I'll send the details of my investigation in a report."

Kunikida pushed up his spectacles. "Dazai, go home."

"Why?"

"You must be sick, and I don't want the office to contract whatever you have," Kunikida explained.

"I feel fine though."

"But you've never offered to write a report, Dazai-san …" Atsushi-kun said quietly.

The whole office stared at me in silence. Some in disbelief, some looking petrified, and some looking at me as if I had grown an extra head.

I didn't know if I was sick, but I was definitely too tired to retort, so I turned around and dragged my feet home as I was told. I must have passed out on the couch upon reaching my apartment.

Sitting up, I replayed the events of yesterday. I had done some pretty unexplainable things. Unexplainable to me, even. Maybe it was the old lady, maybe it was the influence of a certain hat-rack, but I had let my emotions take over for once. I called Mori which is something I would have never done if I had a clear head, I stole a car and chased Chuuya to Kawasaki and saved his life, and then I had grabbed him later in the car and apologised.

I squeezed my chest as my heart constricted a little more, remembering what Chuuya had said.

" _But I only hated you more because I hated myself for missing you."_

Wow, emotions really hurt a whole lot.

Mercifully, the rest of the car ride after I had released Chuuya had been absolutely silent. Besides stiffening up, the redhead didn't react in any other way to the apology, and I had pulled away too quickly for him to continue the conversation; though, not that he tried to.

Which was good. Because I couldn't trust myself with what I might say next.

The truth is … the truth is … emotions are painful. And I dislike pain – no, I absolutely _loathe_ it. So I had tried my hardest to numb myself to my emotions, and live my life by logic and reasoning.

But no matter how much I ignored them and quelled them, I cannot escape them. I'm still human. Unfortunately. And my feelings towards Chuuya have crept up on me over the years.

Even though I hated him from the beginning, hated how he thought so differently, so rashly from me. I hated how he was too emotional and strong-willed and stubborn. I hated his passion, his sensitive nature hidden behind knives and guns and power. I hated how he kept looking for me, kept wanting to understand me, even as I pushed him away multiple times.

But most of all, I hated his unwavering, undying trust in me.

Chuuya's trust in me … his trust itself was the only reason why I was compelled to save him over and over again. For some reason, I just couldn't break that trust. I couldn't until I had finally managed to completely steel my heart, and walk away …

And now this is my punishment. To realise the full extent of how much Chuuya mattered to me. Unlike Odasaku who was my friend from the start, Chuuya, like a true assassin, had slowly chipped away at my heart without my knowing, so that now, behind that steel cage, were just all the broken pieces slowly turning into dust.

I held my head in my hands and suppressed a groan. This won't do. This really won't do. I have to get myself together now, get my head cleared and my thinking back on track.

I sat up finally and noted the time. It was 2am. For some reason, I had an urge to go to the café. Perhaps I should tell the old lady what happened to her daughter.

Normally, I probably wouldn't have bothered. So maybe it's my increased contact with Chuuya lately that's making me act strange. He always had a weird sense of empathy for a mafiaso …

But fuck it all. I'm tired of both thinking and feeling, so I'm just going to follow my gut. And if my gut says "go play the sentimental fool" then that's what I'll do.

* * *

 **Chuuya**

"Is everyone here?" The Mafia Boss tilted his head to the side.

"Yes," I said quickly, annoyed. "There are only 3 of us! Let's hurry up and get this over with."

I was sitting in Mori's office again, this time joined by Ane-san. Mori has called us to this really irritating meeting to discuss the events of the week. Needless to say, I was hardly enthusiastic.

"Now, now, Chuuya," Ane-san laid a perfectly manicured hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure you want to know what happened."

"I know what happened!" I cried. "I was part of his whole elaborate plan!"

Mori chuckled, brushing Elise's hair who was sitting beside him. "Well, we are here to discuss the finer details. But first, could you update Kouyou-san and I again what happened in the morning?"

Grudgingly, I ran over Onuki Kano's deception and the second destruction of Blood Raid as a matter-of-factly.

"So Dazai appeared at the scene and worked with you to take Blood Raid down," Ane-san said slowly as she sipped her tea. "That's interesting."

I kept my face emotionless. "Yeah, apparently he wasn't part of Boss's plan."

"Indeed," said Mori, nodding. "I wasn't expecting his call. I suspect the Agency must have tasked him with finding this Onuki Kano and he sniffed out a lead from us. Unless," Mori paused, "there is another reason why he called?"

All of a sudden, I noticed that all of them had their eyes on me. Well, all but Elise who was brushing her doll's hair as Mori brushed hers. Feeling a little self-conscious, I stopped levitating a random coin. "What?"

"Chuuya," started Ane-san. "Have you been interacting with Dazai lately? You have been repeatedly mentally affected every time –"

"Can we just talk about something else?" I loudly, and desperately cut in. "Boss, you haven't told us what you plan to do after losing a major portion of our assets!"

Mori smirked. "Didn't I mention that I was only _pretending_ to invest in a weapons-manufacturing company? All the money and financial transactions were actually wired into one of the many bank accounts the Port Mafia owns."

I stared in disbelief. "So, what about the building?"

"What building?"

"The building that Blood Raid blew up! Goldwire Factory? That must have incurred costs!?"

"Oh that," Mori laughed. "That's just an empty building I was having some men stake out. If it were attacked, then I know it's a clear sign someone's been leaking information from the inside."

"Oh my god," I leaned back in my chair. "It was all planned."

"And now we've tripled our assets, haven't we?" Ane-san smiled sweetly. "So it all worked out well!"

Enraged, I stood up from my chair. "Easy for you all to say! I was deceived by both Onuki Kano and everyone here! I mean – I understand why but, but still! I had to put up with so much shit like, like …"

"Like?" Ane-san pressed, her searching eyes focused on me.

I closed my mouth immediately, frustration building in the silence. I couldn't exactly tell them after all. They all think I'm the sentimental fool in here. And rightly so. I've always been. That's why I let myself trust and get hurt, trust and get hurt, all over again. Working with that waste of bandages, working with Onuki Kano … then getting reunited for the third time with that traitor – I can only take so much subterfuge and betrayal.

I feel so used.

"Nothing," I said finally, sitting back down. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little stressed. There's still a lot of paperwork to finish."

Mori clapped his hands. "Well! You better go finish that paperwork and rest then! Glad to see that everyone's finally on the same page on things. If you have any questions, please raise them now."

All of us were silent and so, the meeting was closed, at exactly 2am. I got up from the table slowly, gathered my things, and headed out of the door. I did not expect Ane-san to stride up next to me.

"Ane-san?"

She was looking ahead. "Chuuya, I sense your mind and emotions are troubled."

I sighed and said without thinking, "What's new?"

She clicked her tongue at me. "You've always been … temperamental."

"Yes, I've always been a hot, emotional mess," I blurted out, and then quickly reminded to keep my tongue in check.

"It's not good to bottle things up, Chuuya," Ane-san ignored my outburst and stopped walking.

I paused in my own step, lifting my head to look at her. "I … I don't have a choice."

"Yes you do," Ane-san said softly, her gaze kind. "Talk it out. To me, to even that traitor Dazai, or to yourself. But don't ever disguise your feelings or try to deny them."

My voice wavered a little. "Ane-san … but that's … kind of hard to do, as a Mafia member –"

"Then do it as a human," she urged, "because you're _human_ , Chuuya. Don't forget that."

Caught a little off-guard, Ane-san then promptly pulled me into a warm embrace.

"It's been a while since I've hugged you," she smiled into my hair. "You've grown. And I don't just mean physically."

When she released me, she turned back down the corridor and headed towards Mori's. "Go on ahead, Chuuya, I've still got some things to discuss with Mori-san!"

I stared at her slender and elegant figure as she walked away. Maybe she's right. Maybe it's time I admit some things I haven't admitted to myself because of my fear of the truth.

Feeling like I've done enough work for the day, I decided to go back home and confront those very feelings Ane-san had been talking about.

* * *

Dazai and Chuuya stared at each other, neither of them speaking.

Both had come down separate paths but managed to meet at the lane leading down to that café. It was such perfect timing that both probably thought they might be hallucinating, with all the increased thinking about each other the past few days.

"S, Seriously …" Chuuya started first.

"Ah, you don't need to tell me," Dazai looked away. "This is the absolute worst."

Both of them headed down the lane, walking about a metre apart from each other. Dazai barely registered what Chuuya was saying. He was too soft over the loud beating of his heart. Was he … was he actually feeling nervous?

"HEY! Is someone in here?" Chuuya waved a hand in front of his face.

Since when did he get this close again? Dazai blinked rapidly, then arranged his face into a disappointed expression. "Aww … you pulled me from my daydream of a beautiful double suicide –"

"I asked if you were heading there?" Chuuya said, ignoring his remark. "The café, I mean."

Dazai wasn't quite sure what face to make this time. "Umm … yeah. Yeah I am."

"Why?"

"I wanted to …" Dazai trailed off, thinking. "I wanted to tell the old lady about her daughter."

"Onuki Kano."

"Yes, good job, Chibi. You remember."

Chuuya swung a fist at Dazai but he effectively dodged. "How is that a good idea?! We killed her!"

Dazai raised an eyebrow, giving Chuuya a pointed look.

"Okay, well I did," the redhead sighed. Then, out of earshot, Chuuya murmured softly to himself, "Great. More nightmares."

The two entered the café, successfully managing to arrive there without killing each other. The elderly lady straightened up from wiping a table upon hearing the bell.

"You two!" She exclaimed and smiled. "How nice of you both to drop by together!"

Chuuya felt an uncomfortable pit forming in his stomach as he let himself be led by her to the usual table cheerfully. He hated Onuki Kano for deceiving him … but it wasn't this elderly lady's fault. And now he had taken away the only family member she had left.

The mafiaso avoided her gaze, feeling torn between running away right now, or confessing what he'd done and begging for forgiveness.

Dazai looked at Chuuya who was sitting across the table. His arms were folded on the table and his head was down. He hasn't taken off his hat. Should he say something? What's the best course of action? Is there even just one? Dammit … his head hurt. But while his head was a mess, his heart knew very clearly, that he wanted to somehow … console Chuuya at this moment.

"Umm," Dazai turned to look at the elderly lady when she placed a mug of coffee and a cup of tea on the table. "Thank you."

"Why so tense, today?" The elderly lady asked in concern, noting the change in atmosphere.

Dazai swivelled his head around. Thank goodness the place was empty.

"Well, Onuki-san," he said, addressing her. "I have something to say. Please, stay calm."

Dazai stood up and flashed his identity again. "As you know, I am a member of the Armed Detective Agency. I've actually been sent to locate your daughter, Onuki Kano, who had gone missing in Kawasaki for several months."

The elderly lady stumbled back a little. "I … I see."

"It was found that she joined a criminal organisation in Kawasaki called Blood Raid. Both Kano-san and Blood Raid had the similar objective on taking revenge on the Port Mafia."

The elderly lady grasped on the long wooden counter. "The Port Mafia … of course." Then, after a moment, she managed a weak smile. "Kano-chan … she's gone now, isn't she?"

Dazai hesitated. "Yes, we have recovered her body –"

The sudden scrape of a chair behind him told Dazai that Chuuya had stood up. He looked back and saw the redhead with his fists clenched and trembling.

Chuuya bowed. "I'm sorry."

The elderly lady regarded Chuuya with some concern. "Wait. Why –"

But before she could finish her sentence, Chuuya had already turned on his heel and dashed out of the building.

Dazai took in a deep breath. His insides were unravelling. But he forced himself to face the elderly lady again. "I'm sorry to be the one to deliver the news. The Armed Detective Agency can handle Kano-san's body for you and –"

"Please," the elderly lady said, still smiling sadly, tears now running down her cheeks. "Please cremate her like my husband. I – we're very grateful towards you."

Dazai nodded and bowed. "You have my condolences. I'll make sure the proper arrangements are made."

Then, with a heavy heart, he too, exited the café, now sprinting off to find Chuuya.

* * *

 **A/N:** I just want to emphasise, how sweet Kouyou was when she reminded Chuuya that he was human. If you guys have read the BSD light novel Fifteen - well, I don't have to explain any further.

To put it shortly, I've always felt poor Chuuya takes on too much and holds himself to incredibly lofty standards as well. He's of course, always risen to the challenge but it was so kind of Kouyou to remind Chuuya that he can rely on others too! Despite all his crazy, insane, godlike abilities and powers ... I felt that Chuuya needed to know, that it was okay to for him be ... human.


	12. Catharsis

Dazai's legs carried him to Chuuya's at a speed he never thought it was possible for him to achieve. For the first time in his life, he had completely let his instincts and emotions take over. On the whole way there, his body felt completely detached from his mind, like it wasn't his own legs that were carrying him. In his head, only one thought consumed him: Was Chuuya alright?

It was a surreal experience.

When Dazai finally arrived at Chuuya's apartment, he tried to open the door but found it locked. Dammit, he had fixed the lock already.

"Chuuya!" Dazai's fists banged on the wood, yelling with abandon in the dead of the night. "Hey Chuuuyya! Chibiiiii! Hat-rack! Short-stack! CHUUUYYYAAAAAA –"

The door finally opened to reveal a dishevelled-looking redhead in just his white shirt and pants. His beautiful blue eyes were angry and puffy.

"Why. Can't. You … KNOCK OR RING THE BELL LIKE A NORMAL PERSON?!"

Dazai pushed past Chuuya now that the door was open. Then, he kicked off his shoes.

"OI!" Chuuya closed the door. "Don't think you can just walk in – HEY!"

Chuuya exclaimed in surprise when Dazai grabbed his hand and stalked off towards his bedroom.

Once inside the dark room, he threw Chuuya forward and let go. The redhead caught his balance and turned around angrily.

"What is the meaning of this, shitty Dazai?"

Dazai walked up to him and grasped the bottom of his chin not tenderly, examining his face. "Are you okay?"

"Get your hands off me!" Chuuya tried to knee him but the taller man jumped out of the way. However, effectively, Dazai had released his hold.

"Ahh … this is really troublesome after all …" the detective scratched his head, pacing the room. "Especially since you're now apparently fine enough to attack me."

Chuuya glared. "I was fine from the start!"

"Liiiaarr~"

"You shitty waste of bandages!" Chuuya said in annoyance, tired of his antics. "You make everything worse!"

Then, Dazai suddenly noticed the bathroom lights on. He crossed the room and peered in. "Looks like you were running a bath."

"I STILL AM!" Chuuya pushed Dazai aside so that he could step in. "Go home!"

And with that, he shut the door.

Chuuya lowered himself into the bathtub, letting the warm, soapy water wash over his body. What was Dazai thinking? Why did he come here? And why did he ask if he was okay?

However, he couldn't deny that he was indeed, far from okay, at the very least, when he was still at that café. Chuuya felt so much remorse for taking away the last chance the elderly lady had at rekindling her family ties. He couldn't bear to sit there and listen to Dazai finish his professional reporting. Chuuya was crumbling inside, like every other time he took away someone's life unnecessarily.

He sank lower into the water, blowing bubbles from his nose. Maybe he should have given an honest answer when Dazai asked about his wellbeing. What did Ane-san say again? Talk it out?

Chuuya squeezed his eyes shut. Isn't that really just too hard? Especially in this situation … It was impossible with Dazai! How can – what can he actually say?

But … as impossible as that seemed, Dazai did ask about his wellbeing, didn't he? He came all the way here to ask if Chuuya was alright. Didn't that seem kind of improbable too? But it happened … and he sounded sincere about it.

Chuuya shot up straight. Dazai? Sincere? What?

He got up from the tub and drained the soapy water. Maybe it was a bad idea to leave Dazai to himself. Who knew if he really went home? Chuuya wrapped a fluffy white towel around his waist and grimly went to the door.

He just hoped that he wouldn't find his house on fire after opening it.

"Chuuuuyaaa~" sang an annoying voice from his bed as soon as the redhead stepped out.

Okay, Chuuya decided. This might be worse.

Perched on his bed as if he owned the place, was none other than Dazai Osamu in Chuuya's own sweatpants. In fact, that was the only clothing he had on. Well, that and his bandages.

"What the fuck are you doing in my clothes – where are yours?" Chuuya paused, going forward. "Hey, is your hair wet?"

Dazai grinned. "I haven't much time to dry them. Took a quick shower, you see. You know, in that guest bedroom you have. Luckily you still kept the pants that I gave you years ago as a joke present."

"Oh the ones you bought that were multiple sizes too large for me?" Chuuya could feel a vein throbbing somewhere. "You can take them and your tasteless clothes along with yourself, OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"Aww, don't be like that," Dazai pouted. "After I came all this way here to make sure you're alright."

Chuuya froze. Did Dazai just confirm … ? But with the only light coming from the bathroom, the place was too dim to make out his expression. He couldn't tell if he was joking or – wait. It's Dazai. He's obviously joking. What was he thinking?

"Stop thinking and come here," Dazai said with a sigh.

"Why?" Chuuya asked, suspicious.

Dazai rolled his eyes. "Switch off the lights and come here. I'm not going to kill you."

"Can you not say that?" Chuuya backed away. "That makes it sound like you're going to do just the opposite."

Feeling impatient, Dazai leapt off the bed and crossed over to Chuuya. Instinctively, Chuuya lifted his arm to either block or punch the living hell out of the demon that is Dazai Osamu. However, the taller man only reached over to shut the bathroom door behind and flick the switch off.

Suddenly, Chuuya found himself trapped between the wall and Dazai in pitch black darkness.

Neither breathed.

Then, for the second time of the night (morning?) Dazai abruptly grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the bed.

He sat Chuuya on the bed before flopping down on it himself. Face down and right in Chuuya's sheets.

"Umm …" Chuuya was about to stand again but Dazai was still holding on to his wrist.

"Okay, okay," Chuuya said, trying to pry his fingers off. "You're cutting off my circulation. Are you sure you don't want to kill me? What do you want?"

Dazai made a muffled sound, his mouth buried in the sheets.

Now, impatience was building inside Chuuya, and so he used his strength to tear Dazai's hand from his wrist. Freed at last, he jabbed into the side of Dazai's waist with lightning speed, causing the man to roll over with a groan.

"What is your deal?" Chuuya asked, exasperated. He turned around to look at Dazai, trying to search for any clue to the man's schemes. "Why have you been terrorising me the past few days? Why did you come for me in Kawasaki? Why did you say what you said in the car and why … why did you come here, tonight?"

Dazai took a deep breath, the pain at his side was ebbing away to a pain in his chest. "I … don't know. I regret being a shitty partner to you, I guess."

Chuuya gasped angrily. "Don't toy with me!"

"I'm not!" Dazai yelled back. "I wish I was … but I'm not. It's killing me too – these past few days."

"What are you talking about?"

Dazai sighed heavily. Was it time to come clean? "Okay, more like it was probably killing me for the past few _years_ but I never acknowledged them. These … feelings." Dazai paused in slight hesitation. "I never realised how much you've grown on me."

Chuuya bit his trembling lip. What was he talking about? Seriously, _what was he saying?_

"I don't understand …" Chuuya managed to say in a thick voice.

Dazai dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Neither do I, really," he replied honestly. "The old lady was talking about partners and feelings and hurting myself and … and then I started missing you and feeling regret, so I tried letting my emotions run wild for a while which –"

"You're not m, making any sense!" Chuuya cut in, stammering. "Y, you hated me! You still do!" The redhead was terrified by Dazai's words. Saying these things … he must have figured out how Chuuya really felt towards him. His heart squeezed in cold fear that this was another one of Dazai's stupid jokes gone too far.

Speaking of which, Dazai dropped his hands with another sigh, this time sounding frustrated. But no, he wasn't frustrated at Chuuya. He was more frustrated with himself for getting himself in this messy emotional mess that he didn't even have a clear explanation for.

He decided to just be as honest as he can with his words, "But then I realised that I hated you because I never understood you. I never understood how youcan get so sensitive and emotional about everything when logic and reasoning's clearly the most effective path to take. I hated you because I never understood why you kept blindly trusting me and wanting to know me …"

"Stop …" said Chuuya brokenly. "You're j, joking. Stop teasing me …"

The brunette continued staring into space. Chuuya had been trying to hold back but he was definitely crying now. Ah … what had he done? He had acted on his emotions, on his gut feelings, and now it's come to this. Was this result worth it? Or should he have gone back to relying on his masterfully honed logic?

Acting on impulse, Dazai sat up, placed a gentle hand on Chuuya's shoulder and pulled him down to lie on the bed. He faced his former partner, and ran a thumb across his cheek.

"Chuuya," he said softly. "You know I would have never acted like this in a million years to tease you. I'm not playing at anything."

Dazai's hand left the redhead's face to rest on his own bandaged chest. "Now, this is hurting, Chuuya. And I think, for the first time in forever. It might even have started hurting since that night I left the Port Mafia, since I left you … but I just suppressed it because I didn't believe in letting my emotions rule over me."

Chuuya's sobbing got a little louder. "I, I was a hot mess … when you left. Y, you carried on l, life as per usual and I n, never … knew …"

Then tearing up a little himself, Dazai resumed his light thumbing. He felt as vulnerable as Chuuya probably felt. This was the most honest he's been with himself in years. "I'm so sorry I couldn't have been more expressive … I hurt you. I was so messed up. I was, I was collected on the surface but I never realised how messed up my insides were."

"Why … why are you t, telling me all this now?"

"Because now I realised …" Dazai started sadly, "… perhaps a little too late, that emotions make us who we are. Emotions were what Odasaku felt when he was protecting those orphans, they were what pushed Onuki-san to open that café and hope for a chance of meeting her daughter, they were what Kano-san felt when her father was killed and when she took revenge and now they are what I am feeling towards you.

They are … what is currently giving me, my reason to live."

Chuuya couldn't help it. It was too much, too much for him to handle it all at once. So, like what Dazai was doing now, like what Ane-san wanted him to do, he tried to get out, in between his sobs, what the elderly lady had helped him realise.

"I don't … I don't hate you …"

Dazai's eyes widened, surprised at the reply.

But then, he started chuckle, pulling Chuuya close. The redhead obliged, feeling the laughter from deep within the taller man's chest.

"I know, Chuuya," Dazai said finally, brushing a few more tears from Chuuya's face as his sobbing slowly subsided.

"I don't hate you too."

That was the last thing Chuuya heard before his worn-out body gave out, slipping into a deep slumber.

Dazai couldn't help the smiling a little as he closed his own eyes. Right here, right now, this moment … it was all worth it after all.

* * *

Daybreak came in the form of warm afternoon rays hitting their faces instead of morning sun.

Dazai awoke first. That's to be expected of course; the Petit Mafia had been working all of last evening, after all.

He peered down at said Mafiaso, brushing away a strand of loose hair. Seriously, how has he not noticed how pretty Chuuya actually is? Then, he remembered. Oh right. That's because he had spent most of the time with either Odasaku or finding other means to torment Chuuya.

Dazai smiled impishly. Well, the latter reason doesn't have to stop, right?

With his right hand, Dazai brought it to Chuuya's waist and tickled him lightly.

The redhead stirred slightly, burying his face into Dazai's chest even more.

"Wake up, little Chuuya," Dazai said, fingers dancing. "You're making my left arm numb with that overgrown head of yours."

Chuuya swatted the offending hand away and opened his eyes groggily. What time was it? Why was it so bright? Why was he cuddling with Dazai Osamu? Then, Chuuya stiffened.

 _Why was he cuddling with Dazai Osamu?_

Chuuya sat up so quickly, his head collided with Dazai's chin.

Groaning in pain, Dazai rolled away, eyes watering.

"You … you!" Chuuya pointed an accusing finger at the brunette detective. "You fiend!"

Dazai gasped, still clutching at his jaw. "That, that's a new one … hah … some way to show gratitude to the person who gave you a peaceful night's rest."

"Hah?!"

"Are you still having nightmares, Chuuya?" Dazai said, rolling back to face the redhead.

Taken aback, Chuuya stammered, a little defensive, "Y, yeah …?"

"Bet you didn't have any last night."

Chuuya huffed. "That's got nothing to do with you!"

"Don't worry," Dazai's smile grew wider as he propped himself up on one elbow. "I know you want it too, so I'll sleep next to you from now on to scare those nightmares away!"

"You don't know what I want!" Chuuya said, getting up from the bed.

"Oh, but I know that you don't hate me," Dazai's eyes twinkled.

Immediately, Chuuya turned red and he had no means of covering up. "I – you …!" He desperately looked around and found the bathroom. "I'm going to use the bathroom!"

"Don't forget this," Dazai said smoothly, holding out Chuuya's towel.

Screaming, Chuuya snatched it from him and covered himself up. Completely red now, he ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

Dazai laughed. An unbridled, genuine laugh, straight from his heart. "Good morning to you, too."

* * *

 **A/N:** I figured the "I don't hate you" is the closest Chuuya will ever get (at the moment, at least) to a confession. XD

Hope everyone enjoyed the Soukoku fluff! FINALLY we've come past all the angst and reached this moment.

I've written an epilogue (with longer end notes) to wrap everything up together. It will be posted in about 24 hours! Please look forward to it! In the meantime, please feel free to share your thoughts about this chapter! It has taken so much energy to write. All the feelz QAQ


	13. Epilogue

Chuuya stood outside the doors of the Late Night Café. For days he had been contemplating and debating and trying to muster enough courage to visit the elderly lady.

But now that he was here, just three days after that night in Kawasaki, he found the place boarded up.

Gone were the flashing LED lights, the gaudy neon "OPEN" sign and the chalkboard with the café's opening hours. The door had been boarded up with wooden planks and the place was dark and empty inside.

Chuuya clutched at the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands. A wave of sadness washed over him.

"Chuuya!" A voice called out his name. Chuuya turned to see Dazai walking down the street, illuminated by a single, bright moon.

"Why're you here?" he said with surprise.

"There's a nice round, full moon out tonight, so I'm taking a walk at 3am," Dazai joked. "I'm visiting you, duh, stupid Chibi."

Chuuya blushed. He almost forgot. Dazai had texted him earlier in the evening to say he's skipping out on work the next day so he could spend some time at Chuuya's.

"And you're … visiting the elderly lady?" Dazai asked, coming up to Chuuya.

"Yeah but … the place is …"

Dazai stroked his chin. "Hmm … maybe if you stay out here and start bawling the elderly lady may come out with a cup of tea for you?"

Chuuya snapped at the taller man. "Stop fooling around! She's not here anymore!"

"Lighten up," Dazai laughed. "I have her personal details. She still lives in there."

Chuuya furrowed his brows. "Uhh … I think the Agency needs to update their database …"

Dazai ignored Chuuya and went around the building, heading into the buttercup bushes that have grown around.

Skeptical, Chuuya followed, not knowing what to expect. But when they finally came to the back of the building, he gasped. There was a back door right in the brick walls of the house! A little path from the door led away from it, towards the direction of the roads.

"You see," Dazai said smugly. "She's still in there. Just that the café's permanently closed."

 _Oh_ , thought Chuuya with some sadness. It wasn't just the food, he'll miss her company too …

Sighing, he held up the bouquet he had. It presented quite a selection of flowers. Mostly simple, humble flowers, expressing his sincerity. However, with all the pinks, and purples and greens, there seems to be just one colour missing.

"Here," Dazai said, stepping to him. He pulled out a single fresh buttercup from his coat and slid that in the bouquet. "Now that looks better, doesn't it?"

Chuuya put the flowers down in front of the door and stayed there in silence for a while, thinking about the elderly lady and Onuki Kano.

 _Thank you for everything._ Chuuya wished her the best.

Then, he stepped away and headed back to the main path, with Dazai behind him.

"That was sweet of you," Dazai remarked.

"Shut up," Chuuya grumbled, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth anyway. He felt good about what he's done.

The two of them walked in comfortable silence to Chuuya's apartment. As they went in, Chuuya suddenly remembered an interesting mission he had today.

"Ah anyway, I was tasked to rescue some kids today!" Chuuya started, switching on the lights as Dazai walked past, making himself at home. "In the evening, I had to infiltrate an orphanage to get these 2 kids out. It was surprisingly harder than I thought. Who'd ever think an orphanage would have such tight security?"

Dazai called out from the kitchen. "Huh? You mean you couldn't just pretend to be an orphan and walk in?"

Chuuya found him at the counter and aimed a kick at Dazai. "I'll kill you!"

Dazai laughed, dodging easily. "One day, one day."

"Can I continue?" Chuuya rolled his eyes. "So Mori apparently wants these two in the Mafia because they've got really compatible abilities. He's thinking of forming a new duo …"

"Do you think they'll be more successful than us?" Dazai smiled mirthfully.

Chuuya sighed, leaning back against the counter beside the taller man. "You must be delusional to think we were successful. Not only were we constantly at each others' throats, we also split apart in 3 years."

"But now we're back together," Dazai said.

Chuuya hesitated. "Yeah … I guess? But not really? I mean, well … it's not like Mori or your President knows that we're …" He trailed off uncertainly.

Dazai waited. "That we're …?"

Chuuya paused. He … he wasn't sure himself. _What are we now?_

"What are we now?" Dazai repeated after Chuuya who had echoed his thoughts. He grinned seeing his favourite redhead's red face.

"Well, I don't know actually," Dazai admitted, turning back to the counter table.

"But in a way, we're still partners, aren't we?" He suddenly handed Chuuya a cup of chamomile tea.

Chuuya stared at Dazai, then at the tea. Truth to be told, Chuuya was afraid. He was very afraid of how things might turn out from here. He wasn't sure if there was anything he should do or pay attention to, or if this happier, sincerer Dazai was here to stay. But Chuuya found comfort in how they both, at least, have faced their deep-seated, troubled emotions with each other and cleared up some misgivings together.

That was undeniably a huge hurdle they had crossed – settling their pasts, tying up loose ends … and he was glad for it. Now, they just need to look at the future. Their future.

Chuuya smiled shyly. "Yeah," he replied, taking the cup.

"Let's take it from there."

* * *

 **A/N:** What can I say? This was certainly one heck of a ride. XD

There are however, a few things I would like to address. Firstly, the buttercups. Those are the flowers on the café's awning and with this epilogue, Dazai has actually offered a buttercup to the elderly lady twice – the first time being in Chapter 5.

There are a few reasons I can think of as to why buttercups are symbolic. Did you know that they represent immaturity/childishness and humility? The elderly lady acted as Dazai's (and Chuuya's) guide in this fic and probably made him realise later on, how immature Dazai had been to hold on to his pride and ideals, forgetting the most important part of being human. At the end of the fic, it's evident that Dazai feels humbled by the experience and therefore, presents a buttercup to her for the last time by adding it into Chuuya's bouquet.

Speaking of which, while Dazai worked on unshackling his emotions, Chuuya's angle was his past. Facing it, amending it, and realising newfound hope for the future. I hope I can somewhat bring this across to everyone!

Regarding his nightmares, I had decided that Chuuya's always burdened with them, given his honour and respect for life (especially evident in how he treats his comrades, regardless of rank). The only difference is, recently the nightmares have been surrounding Dazai, due to his interactions with the elderly lady, reminding him about a specific time of his past. When Dazai is present and next to him however, the nightmares stop, and I think that is representative of the amount of trust Chuuya places in Dazai and his decisions – so much so that he is comforted by his presence and assured of his past actions.

I hope I managed to convey both characters' pain and conflicted emotions. My favourite part was writing the last part of Chapter 12. I needed that Soukoku fluff so much! Finally, finally, for the first time in the fic, both Dazai and Chuuya aren't battling each other or some twisted thought or emotion! They felt free.

I would like to leave all of you here, with the song that heavily influenced this fanfic. It was the basis of the kind of feel and type of fic I was going for. I interpreted the lyrics as Dazai's message to Chuuya. I hope you can see where I'm coming from!

watch?v=2elxK1gydEU (Please paste this link into Youtube!)

Who knew that a fanfic like this, inspired by passing by a closed café at night with a hungry stomach would bring me so much joy! There was a time when the research and schoolwork was bogging me down so much, I almost gave up on this. I was so glad I didn't! I honestly wouldn't have found the strength to continue writing if it weren't for everyone's encouragement – so you all took a part in the completion of this fic!

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for your support! And now, with a heavy heart, I finally close The Late Night Café.


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